#or AM where the kingdom hels out the alliance but

[almyrn]

@cutthru​   /   sc.

                      ❛     i   never   quite   thanked   you   ,   did   i   ?     ❜     a   question   that   begged   no   answer   ,   claude   was   well   aware   the   time   for   formal   thank   you   notes     (   &   likely   :   apologies   .   )     had   come   &   passed   many   times   .   in   hindsight   ,   claude   should   perhaps   feel   at   least   a   twang   of   guilt   .             he   did   not   .

                     ❛     you   had   no   reason   to   help   us   .     ❜    was   claude   in   his   shoes   ,   he   could   not   vow   to   have   done   the   same   .   the   strategic   reasons   outweighed   the   emotional   obligations   .   but   there   was   no   need   to   remind   felix   of   that   .     (   THANKS   FOR   HELPING   US   ,   I   MAY   HAVE   LET   YOU   DIE   IF   THAT   WERE   ME   .   )     ❛     but   you   did   .   i   admire   that   .     ❜

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 4 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Nothing can stop the wrath of the God of Mischief, when he realizes he had been deceived by the people he trusted more than his beloved wife.

Warnings: Angst, Violence

Words: ~1700

"But what the world fails to realize is a villain is just a victim whose story hasn’t been told.” - Chris Colfer

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @hi-there-x @haloangel391 @misssilencewritewell @babayaga67 @accioremuslupinn @mochimommy2002 @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @damalseer @bethanystan @loser-alert @star017 @nina1800 @queenariesofnarnia @n1fangirlsblog @vengefulsokovian @lunamoonbby @freyagallileaevans​

A/N: This is a rather boring chapter, but we’re far from done!

“She already left several moons ago. It was her own wish, we did not force her.”

“Where to?” 

“Midgard.”

Loki was long back on Asgardian territory, yet his mind couldn’t find peace. Well, how could he, now knowing what Laufey told him?

His world had already crumbled to dust when he left you behind - but if Laufey spoke the truth, his whole existence had been built on lies from the very start.

Not knowing where to search for answers, the prince sneaked into Odin’s forbidden chambers, walking in the shadows protecting him in the midst of night.

There it was: The Cascet of Ancient Winters - the very relic that doomed the fate of your newborn, revealing it’s shameful blood to all of Asgard.

It just urged him to try and see for himself, even if the truth would shatter his heart.

“STOP!”

Loki wouldn’t even flinch at the Allfather’s words, already tightly holding the cascet in both hands.

“Am I cursed?”

The God of Mischief wouldn’t even dare to turn around and look at the person he always ever thought to be his father - for as soon as he laid fingers on the cascet, he began turning into that same shade of blue your son did.

Panic began to rise in the young god, fearing to be killed by the people he loved so dearly shall they lay eyes upon what he truly was. His chest began to tighten, fastened breath turning into a cold mist.

“No” was Odin’s firm but unsatisfying answer, to which Loki only responded by putting down the cascet.

“What am I?”

“You’re my son.” His words came from the heart, not even faltering as Loki turned around to present his Jotun form to the Allfather.

“What more than that?!” he almost growled in between gritted teeth, appearance slowly returning to his usual self.

At that deepest, darkest day in his life yet, Loki would be too blinded by betrayal and rage to see his father’s true love towards his adoptive son.

“The cascet wasn’t the only thing you took back from Jotunheim that day, was it?” The prince took firm steps towards the man that he had known all his life, but had become a complete stranger towards him through that sole moment.

Again, only a “no.”

Loki’s mind was racing, thinking about what else may have been hidden from himself - and what kind of consequences that revelation had for everything he had done up until now.

“In the aftermath of the battle, I went to the temple -- and I found a baby” the Allfather continued, “Small, for a giant’s offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die...”

“...Laufeyson” Loki completed Odin’s sentence. So every word the King of the Jotunns had said was indeed a fact.

“W-W-why?!” he almost whined, voice weak and defeated. “You were knee deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child-”

“No.” The God of Lies himself had become so sick of being fed those, starting to snap. “You took me for a purpose. What was it???” 

For what felt like an eternity, there was only silence.

The image of that small, blue child in his arms had been painfully burned into his heart back then. But now that he knew the story behind all of this, it held a completely different meaning.

Just like he had been abandoned back on that frozen rock, he had abandoned his own child, as well as the love of his life.

Outcast, abused, left to die...and now, god knows what had happened to you...

That secret had destroyed more than just his own life. It had ruined the only honest happiness he was ever given - you, and his son.

“TELL ME!”

He just needed to know: The reason behind all the pain and suffering he had to endure - and caused to others as well.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace...through you.”

That was just too much for Loki to bear. “What?” he reacted with a barely-there voice, every word of his father shooting daggers through his heart.

“But those plans no longer matter.” No matter what Odin might want to explain, Loki wasn’t able to listen to any more, jumping into his own conclusions.

“So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up inside of here until you might have use for me?!” he croaked, afraid of the answer.

“Do not twist my words.”

“You could told me what I was from the beginning!” he now yelled, furious at how virtuous Odin would still defend his own action. “Why didn’t you?”

“You’re my son” he repeated once again. “I only wanted to protect you from the truth.”

“Why, ‘cause I-I-I-I’m the monster people tell their children about at night?!” Loki clenched his fists, fingernails drawing blood to his palm.

“At least when my son was born, you should’ve dropped the charade!” Pure agony was dripping from every syllable, and for a mere second, his eyes were glistering bright red once again. “You’ve forsaken two innocent lives - the most important beings in my pathetic existence - and now you’ve burdened me with their suffering as well!”

That sure was a miracle - how a person so broken from the beginning wouldn’t collapse under pressure that huge.

“It all makes sense now, why you favoured Thor, all those years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

But who cares about the throne, honestly? Not him. Not anymore. Ever since he knew you.

It all dawned to him now: What he could have, if only he had put his trust in you like so many times before.

All his life, he only ever remembers a shadow. At first, he thought it to be the shadow of his brother, or never being enough for his own father. Maybe the other Asgardians looking down on him, making him feel like he doesn’t belong.

Yet in the end, that very shadow was inside of his own mind.

But you?

You had loved Loki with all of your heart, banishing the darkness from his mind through your bright affection.

It didn’t matter to you what anyone thought of him - or even what he thought himself to be.

Because you saw him for what he really was, and he found peace with that.

And he was certain that it wouldn’t matter to you whether he called himself Odinson or Laufeyson - as had you loved his child dearly, ever since he took his first breath.

He could never make up for that greatest of his sins, Loki knew that much.

Or...?

“Where are you going, my son?”

Reluctantly, Loki made his way past the man he now only considered a stranger. Still, when Odin tried to reach out to him, Loki immediately ducked away, startled and afraid for his true nature to hurt anyone.

More than ever before, the God of Mischief despised himself to the core of his being. He was lost, confused, shocked - and still, determined.

“Creating a Kingdom for my family.”

___

[Earth, 2 months later]

On times like these, you thought your mind was betraying you.

Especially when you catched yourself reminiscing sweet, innocent moments - far back in the past, before everything you ever held dearly got destroyed.

You still felt his touch, feather-light on your skin, as well as his scent haunting your memories. And sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder how life would have been, well...if things were different.

Frantically shaking your head, you clasped the book closed and threw it into a corner of the small one-room-flat SHIELD had provided for you.

Your magical pockets were always almost empty, except for a few necessities - and that book. It held the first flower Loki ever gifted you, and you had dried it in between those pages so it would never lose it’s beauty.

But now, remembering meant pain - because Loki Laufeyson would never come back.

For he is dead.

Fell of the Bifrost, as confirmed by Heimdall, who secretly kept in touch with you all this time. So you knew it all: Of his grief and treason, which slowly led him into madness. 

And what did you do in the meantime?! Nothing at all!

You should’ve tried everything, anything to get back and help him go through that time of need, hel!

“Endure it, Y/N...you need to stay strong...for Liam.” After so many times of telling those words to yourself, you doubted them to have any effect on your broken heart at all.

Yet it would never fail to keep you going. For that wonderful child was proof of your love, and now your last memory of him.

Rocking the small Jotun to sleep, tears found their way to your eyes like so many times before, dropping to the baby’s face unnoticed.

So you tried to sing your pain away as you cooed that little wonder to sleep.

“Å eg lengtar så tidt dette landet å sjå, Og det dreg meg så blidt, når eg langt er ifrå. Med den våknande vår vert min saknad so sår, så mest gråta, mest gråta eg kan. Å eg minnest, å eg minnest, å eg minnest så vel dette land. Å eg minnest, å eg minnest, å eg minnest så vel dette land.”

*Translation:

“Oh I long so long to see this land, And it pulls me so gently, when I'm far away. With the waking spring host my missing so sore, so most cry, most cry eg can. Oh I remember, oh I remember, oh I remember this country as well. Oh I remember, oh I remember, oh I remember this country as well.”

[camdentown-library]

You hurt me first || male!Eivor x fem!Reader

(GIF by eivorella )

𝕺𝖍, 𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊?

Summary: You are a Hidden-One and Eivor is your travel companion. Things will change when Eivor forgets one of your important expeditions to spend a whole day with Randvi. What will happen? Requested? ANON: I love love LOVE your writing  😭 and I have a request that I hope you would accept 🥺 could you write a jealous reader x eivor awwww I love that kind of stuff about randvi’s crush on eivor and a cute confession at the end. 😚 Genre: Fluff, a bit angst (only 20%) Words: 2048

NOTE: siktir et = Fuck in turkish

"Eivor" your voice called the attention of the Viking who was returning to Ravensthorpe on a horse "But where have you been?" you asked impatiently putting your hands on your hips. You had been looking for him all day, today you would have had to leave for the porssimo kingdom to conquer, important peace negotiations were underway and he needed an alliance as much as you to find the rest of the order of the ancients. The blond friend with an agile leap jumped off his steed and only then did you notice that Randvi was with him, riding another horse. As your eyes met your stomach felt a sharp pang, as if your own hidden blade had pierced your organ, while a bitter aftertaste formed at the end of your tongue. "Y/N!" Eivor said in a joyful tone, awakening you from your hostile thoughts "Were you looking for me perhaps?" the hands on your hips tightened in a tenacious grip for the nervous. "Maybe I was looking for you?!" you asked with an ironic tone "siktir et Eivor, have you forgotten what we were supposed to do today?" you asked visibly annoyed, while your Viking friend (probably from the alcohol still running lightly in his veins) looked at you puzzled as he tilted his head to one side. You stared up in shock, was he really so overwhelmed by Randvi and his stupid crush that he forgot why they were there in Ravensthorpe?! "Oxenfordscire?! Your brother Sigurd?! We were supposed to leave this morning and I've been looking for you all day!" you said angry, while Eivor remained silent not knowing what to repeat "Your brother and my mentor had requested our presence, the negotiations seem to be more difficult than you thought, but apparently it is more important for you to go roaming around fields with Randvi!" your tone became more and more poisonous, and your anger and your jealousy took more and more possession of your body, leaving your calm and calculating Hidden-One mind on the corner "And tell me Eivor, did you drink together? fucked? Or maybe you did both, since you're back in the late afternoon" Randvi's gaze became dark with slight embarrassment, while getting off the horse she slowly walked towards the long house of Jarl Eivor on her side she seemed to have lost her patience, and as always she knew how to do, besides regaining consciousness of himself, he sharpened his sharpest weapon: his tongue and his words. "Stop being a child, Y/N! And above all do not disrespect Randvi, she is the Jarl's wife" replied the man approaching you, his tone was grim even though he tried to stay calm. "Jarl's wife? Seriously Eivor? Do you think ... Do you think I am blind or deaf by any chance?" you asked mimicking his words, while Eivor shook his head in disappointment. "I just took Randvi for a walk, you see she doesn't have the privilege like you of being able to roam far and wide, her duty is to stay locked up in that damn long house. I just let her breathe some air new and moreover..” Eivor took a few more steps towards you, but you did not retreat, as your faces left a few centimeters away “I have no obligation to inform you about my private life, you are not my Jarl , you are not my mother and you are not my wife” your eyes met for a moment, but nothing romantic passed through them, only disappointment and anger. Eivor had been clear with you, you were nobody to him, just a foreign girl who, together with her mentor and her partner, had entered the crow's clan. Pathetic, that's what you were, pathetic to have thought for just a moment that that rough, arrogant Viking cared about you. You took a deep breath, never looking down at those ocean-blue eyes and turning your back on Eivor you said in a cold tone: "I'm leaving now and alone" you said as you mounted the nearest horse. "Wait, the sun has almost gone down now, it's not safe to venture out" said the groom, emerging from the horse stable. "I've ridden alone for years in the desert and in far more hostile places than a couple of green hills" you said seriously and arrogantly, and then cast one last look at Eivor, who looked you in the eye almost...sorry. No! Nonsense...It was obvious he was anything but that or he wouldn't have said those heartless words to you. I beckoned to the horse to leave, and the horse pawing enthusiastically set off at a gallop towards the Oxenfordscire.

* * *

Night had fallen over the moors and forests of distant, cold England. You had camped near a river with your horse, while next to you there was a small fire lit in the hope of keeping you warm. You swore in your mother tongue that you were so reckless...you could at least have taken some fur or something to eat, and instead you were there, cold, alone and with nothing to eat. You looked out over the river, letting the water mirror the image of your face. Look at you, anything but feminine, foreign and definitely not Viking. What did you think was springing up in Eivor's heart? The burning fuse of love? The truth is that you were a fish out of water and neither you, nor Hytham, nor Basim would ever have been part of that extended family. A tear full of frustration, furrowed your face contracted in a grimace that tried in every way to suppress the desperate need to cry and in the impetus you chased a menacing growl by throwing a slap at that river, thus breaking your reflection. A strange rustle in the bushes caught your attention, making you whirl towards that threatening noise. Something was hiding in the dense bush! Slowly you let your hidden blade slip away from your wrist, approaching with extreme silence towards the source of your threat, and as soon as you noticed a dark shape hiding behind the trunk of a tree, you slid as quickly as a splinter, pushing the intruder to the ground . You overtook him immediately, sitting astride his chest and blocking his mighty arms with your legs, while the tip of your blade dangerously caressed his throat. "Give me a good reason not to kill you intruder or you will not see your precious Valhalla" you said threateningly, trying to see his identity in the dim light. "Well if you do, you'll have to explain to Sigurd the reason for his brother's demise" that voice ... Eivor? "You..." "Yeah ..." "YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME" you said indignantly. "How could I have left you alone?" Eivor asked him indignantly this time. "Yes, sure, right ... spare your bullshit when you explain to Sigurd your delay in Oxenfordscire" you answered bitterly, shaking your head. Eivor was silent for a few moments, perhaps admitting defeat in that speech, and then cleared his throat. "As much as I'm finding, here ... very exciting having a woman straddling my chest, could you take your blade off my throat?" your face flushed with embarrassment and anger and after snorting annoyed you said: "I would really want to pierce your dick with this one, at least so you won't be fooled with that instead of your head" You got up nimbly from him, trying to ignore his amused laugh, how could he behave like this after your argument? Ugh...that man was absurd...

You both leaned back around the small fire you made while Eivor rummaged in his big bag. You tried hard not to stare and ignore it, but when you recognized the smell of dried meat, your throat twisted with hunger. "Have you eaten? I brought some food from Ravensthorpe" Eivor explained, as he brought two succulent strips of dried meat to you, but you shook your head. "I'm not hungry" but he didn't seem to believe it, in fact he raised an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth. "As you want, then I'll eat it all" he said marking the last words...what a bastard, was he psychologically torturing you?! A cold gust of wind, however, shook you abruptly from your thoughts, making you shiver noisily...damn, what would you pay for a fur coat to cover you with, that cold was so different from the hot nights of Constantinople. Something heavy wrapped around our shoulders, and blinking in perplexity, you turned to Eivor, who had moved to your side, covering you too with his fur cloak. "I don't need you, stop it" you said arrogantly as he rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'm just trying to get you all to your destination, difficult days ahead and I need you and all your strength" the wheat-haired Viking explained seriously. "You wouldn't think you cared today" "Wha-? Listen Y/N ... I don't know what got into you today but I didn't want things to be like this" "Didn't you want? Eivor, you literally told me that my opinion doesn't count for you" the man bit his tongue at the thought of what he had said and shaking his head said: "I can prove to you it's not like that" "Go on" "Today, when Randvi and I were walking, she kissed me" you opened your eyes wide in shock, as you felt for the second time your heart crack into a thousand pieces "But! I rejected her...And not because she was the wife about my brother...as I initially thought. When I saw you go off on horseback, alone, the very thought of not being able to protect you made me feel like I was lost in the cold lands of Hel” he explained, it seemed really to be honest "And when I finally saw you camped here I was able to breathe again knowing that you were not in danger..." "This is not love, it's just a sense of guilt Eivor” you tried to reject it, still burned by your own jealousy. "No, no it's not guilt! I...I want you Y/N, I feel it when you climbed on me to attack me, I feel it now that we are close to warm up, I...for Odin sake I cannot be without you I'm sorry things had to go like this” he said, looking you in the eye. His expression seemed sincere, all of a sudden it no longer seemed I had a fierce and arrogant Viking beside me, but ... a wolf cub, a tender puppy, who just wanted to have his love reciprocated by him. Now it was your heart that was filled with guilt. "In truth...it is not because of the missed mission that I have taken it out on you, Eivor...seeing you with Randvi, has me-ugh what a shame in saying these things... I felt abandoned, I felt cornered, I felt I was worth nothing to you and I could touch the feeling that she was taking you away from me-” your speech was interrupted by the hand of the Viking who fleetingly grabbed your chin making it turn towards him, so as to be able to join your lips in a chaste first impact kiss, but which then poured out all your need to be united, to be able to touch you, to be able to merge your souls into one League.

"I'm here, forever Y/N" Eivor whispered as his mouth brushed yours "but only if you stop being an angry child and promise me you'll eat something, mh?" he said with a playful little smile, getting a light slap on the cheek from you. "Otherwise? Are you abandoning me?" you asked ironically, raising an eyebrow. "I know methods of torture that you cannot imagine, to make you smile with force" he said, returning the ironic tone, while his calloused hands caressed your soft hips. "I thought you were leaving these things to the Ragnarsson, Wolfkissed" you pretended to be surprised, as he pressed his lips to your ear and kissed the earlobe, while his frizzy beard tickled your sensitive skin, giving you a few snorts of laughter. "You don't know my evil side then" he replied with a chuckle and playfully biting your jaw.

[pandawritesmanythings]

(A Medieval!AU Loki x Stark!Reader Story)

Chapter Summary: Where our adventure begins...

Word Count: 2,018

Warnings: Angst? Breakups?

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much to those who liked the idea and decided this story was worth your time! I hope you enjoy!

-

Loki found himself looking out the window, while the woman on his bed slept soundly. He took a breath of the salty air that belonged to that dark and secretive night. A night of caresses and whispers, always aware that anybody could walk in but fully devoted to each other.

The northern star sparkled brightly against the dark sky and he found himself staring at it. At the millions of stars that he had explored yet still so many, he had out of his reach. He couldn't map further from what he could see. But there was no brighter star than the one that he had left to rest on his bed.

He approached her quietly and sat beside her. A hand petting her hair to wake her.

"Time to go love." He whispered as her eyes fluttered open.

She let out a heavy and sleepy sigh. "Must I?"

"I wish you hadn't. But you must."

"If only this wasn't so complicated..."

"Yes... If only." Loki stared out of the window. He knew this night was the last with his true love. "But despite what happens tomorrow, you must know that it was you. It was always and will always be just you."

They pressed their foreheads together, him trying to transmit his love for her and her trying to suppress the tears. After tonight these secret rendezvous and quiet cuddles would be no more. The dark prince was going to marry someone else, and there was nothing either of them could do.

"Promise me you'll never forget me." She asked him.

"I promise. But you also have to promise that you'll move on."

She kept quiet. Her golden hair was messy and it had fallen off her braid. Despite her disheveled look, she was still the most beautiful creature to Loki. His angel was struggling with her words, but he couldn't blame her. This was for the best, but it didn't mean that it wasn't hard.

Finally, she conceded. "I-I promise..." 

That night they would finally admit their love to each other, but they would have to painfully part before that love could ever be consumed.

-

The day of departure was extremely stressful for you. You paced around your room and Wanda helped you finish going over your luggage.

"Are you sure I have everything? Maybe double-check the list." You nervously paced as you pulled your dress to make it neater for the umpteenth time.

Wanda bit her lip in amusement. "Darling, this is the third time we have gone over about what you are taking and what you aren't. You have to take a breath. Everything will be fine."

You sat in front of your vanity and looked at the bags under your eyes in the mirror.

"Alright. Yes. Everything will be fine." You placed your head in your hands, and even though you tried to convince yourself, you had to admit that you really weren't feeling confident.

"This just needs to work Wanda. It does. I can't afford to slip up."

She kneeled next to you, and understanding look on her face. "I know my dear friend. But it will do you no good to worry like this. Come, you must speak to your brother. If you are nervous I can't begin to imagine how nervous he is."

You nodded and led the way to your little brother's room. After knocking, his brown eyes met yours and he beamed at you before tackling you into a hug. Not very princely like, but you loved him a lot so who cares.

"You came!" He beamed at you.

"Of course I came!" You smiled back. "I wouldn't want to leave without saying goodbye!"

A sad look crossed his face. "Do you really have to go?" He sheepishly asked.

"I know it's not ideal Peter, but it will only be for a little while, with some luck I'll be able to come back here soon." You tried to remain positive but the teen remained with a worried expression etched to his face.

"But you won't come back alone, will you?"

You hesitated. Your parents had been adamant about not letting Peter know many details, but you couldn't lie straight to his face.

"Best case scenario I won't."

"Why does that have to be the best-case scenario?" He grumbled, becoming slightly more annoyed.

"You know full well why Peter." You straightened up. "This is my duty and I'll fulfill it if I have to."

"But what about-"

Your glare and stern look shut him up immediately, especially after noticing a pair of guards walking nearby.

A sigh fell from your lips. "I don't wish to fight you."

"Me neither."

"Then please understand. I just want you to care for Morgan. And don't worry about me. I'm the royal heir. It's my obligation to worry about arranged marriages, not yours."

Both of your foreheads were pressed against each other. Both trying to draw strength from the other and still show your love, because you knew that in public you wouldn't be able to.

"I love you, little brother."

"And I, you."

-

The realm consisted of 9 kingdoms. Towards the ocean, was Asgard. A beautiful and towering kingdom. Rich in resources and culture. It was one of the biggest and most prosperous of the kingdoms.

To it's right was Vanaheim, which was a series of hunting tribes that had their own system of government. It was unusual for the Vanir to leave Vanaheim, and the thick vegetation and merciless fauna rendered it almost impossible to travel through it if not guided by a local.

To Asgard's left was Alfheim. An illustrious monarchy that made its home on the edge of the mountains, and had made itself rich for acquiring the precious gems and stones that decorated their palaces and streets. They lived quietly isolated and had refused for centuries to trade with any of the other kingdoms. But they had accepted to do so thanks to the Yggdrasil Accord.

Deeper into the mountains was Svartalheim. Their kingdom was to be found inside the mountains. Not much was known about them since they had remained isolated from the other kingdoms and despite the Accord, they still mostly kept to themselves.

At the top of the mountains and the subsequent valleys was Jotunheim. This kingdom was hostile. They bred warriors from infancy and were terribly dangerous to the other kingdoms. They were the strongest in the military sense. They had the best strategist and fiercest warriors. It was no surprise that anyone who approached the kingdom uninvited had gone missing and never heard of again.

In the valley below the mountains, there was Nidavelir. A kingdom of artisans and poets. A stark contrast to their Jotun neighbors, they were a complete opposite to them. Being mostly unarmed and interested only in refining their craft and methods of farming, they were the kingdom most defenseless yet with the most resources of the bunch.

Next, there was Niflheim. This was a neutral zone. A zone that was for the rulers of the kingdoms to come together in peace. As a result, the people of the place were pacifists and tried to share their ways with the other realms.

Then there was Hel. It had once been a powerful kingdom. But a raging fire had turned the green and beautiful forest into a barren and ashy wasteland. The people who lived there were ruled by their queen who barely had contact with the other kingdoms. Their system works like any other tribe would.

And finally, right in the middle of all the kingdoms, there was Midgard. The youngest of the kingdoms. This was your home. And this was yours to protect. Once you were old enough to understand your responsibility you took it with honor. Your small but resourceful centric land was everything to you. And you would protect it against the other kingdoms with your life.

"You've been looking at that map for a long time." You heard your father's voice.

He was coming towards you. His confident stride contrasting with the worry lines and sad smirk.

You smiled back at him before you looked back over the map. "Just making a mental list."

"For?"

"Well. If I am to go to Asgard I must make a good case for my visit and arrangement, must I not?" You smirked back at him, hoping it would lighten his mood.

To your delight, he seemed to relax a bit, but it didn't last long before he took a good look at you and smiled sadly.

"You've grown so much, you know?" He cupped your face in his hands and brought you in a hug. "I'm proud of you."

You couldn't cry. You wouldn't allow your self. It wasn't fair to him. He needed you strong. 

"I love you, dad."

"And I love you, my little girl..."

The doors opened and you saw your mother stride in. Her strawberry blonde hair flowed as her cream dress did. She was the image of perfection and grace. Oh, how you wanted to be like her when you grew up.

She called your name softly and embraced you. You felt her love in the soft hug. She looked at you with the same fondness as your dad.

"She's become such a wonderful woman, hasn't she, Tony?"

He nodded in agreement. "Almost as beautiful as her mum."

"Oh, hush you make me blush." You teased.

"You'll be a wonderful queen when the time comes my dear." Your mother nodded towards you, disregarding your last teasing comment.

"Thank you, mother."

"That's why I keep saying that you don't need to go to Asgard!" Your dad tried to sway you once more before you left. "You're absolutely capable of managing Midgard by yourself! Just saying!"

Your mother tried to interject, but you beat her to it. You held your dad's hands and looked earnestly into his eyes.

"I know that, dad. I truly do."

"Then why go?" He basically breathed out, it was painful for everyone, but you knew that for your father it was probably the hardest.

"You know why. There is no other option. At least not one that would want to make an alliance with us. We have the common ground, and benefits to profit of." You lowered your head in slight resignation. "We both know that this was not what we had planned. But I'll do whatever it takes to keep our people and my family safe. Please... You have to trust me."

He looked back at your mom, searching for her to correct you, tell you there was another way, anything. But when he saw the resignation on her tired eyes he knew there was nothing he could do. You were going through with this. Like it or not, you were going to do it.

"I trust you. I just don't trust the Asgardians."

You pulled a section of your skirt where there was a hidden knife and he raised an eyebrow at you. "How many?"

"Three more under the skirt." You flipped a thin razor from your long sleeve dress. "One right here, just in case."

"Attagirl." He smirked back at you.

"Now those are for emergencies, alright dear? We don't want war. Please reconsider taking so many." Your mom tried to interject.

You gasped exaggerating your expressions. "Me, by myself at a strange kingdom and you prefer I go unarmed? Mother, you wound me worse than any Asgardians ever could."

She raised an eyebrow at you, unimpressed. "I'm just saying choose your battles, child. You go to make peace, so avoid inadvertently causing a war between us and Asgard."

The three of you went over the plan and the proposal once more, before they escorted you outside the castle and let you off to the mysterious land than was Asgard. 

As your home and family faded in the distance you saw Peter hugging Morgan to his chest who cried for her big sister. You finally allowed the tears to run. For you, your family, and everything that was about to be taken away from you.

-

TAG LIST (OPEN)

[randomnameless]

Interesting FE16 world-building (?) tidbits, found through food and menus

or i was hungry : the post

Nabateans have no taste, Zanado fruit is described as “inedible” but apparently golden Zanado fruit is rad, so idk. Is it a Zanado fruit specially harvested for human tastes?

Saghert & Cream :  “ A baked confection with Noa fruit cream and a currant reduction, often enjoyed as a dessert at family gatherings.”

Noa fruit --> smthg smthg Noa, and Noa’s crest is apparently making Constance able to grow flowers (or to make plants bloom)? Are Noa fruits specific to Western Adrestia, or are they found everywhere? But since it’s a common dessert enjoyed at “family gatherings” I suppose Noa fruits are kind of common and/or not that expensive. Noa crested people make a lot of fruits and control the production of Noa fruits in the continent? But even if they have a monopoly on Noa fruits they think it’s more profitable to sell them at a rather low price than to treat it as a delicacy?

Sweet Bun Trio : “ Traditional pastries from Faerghus, known for their subtle sweetness. The dough is made with eggs and sugar.”

Important to note : this is made with Noa fruits (lel) and Albinean berries. So, traditionaly, Faerghus traded with Albinea to get fruits to fill their donuts/buns? Otoh, if the taste is rumoured to be subtle, Sylvain apparently doesn’t find it so awesome because he has that infamous “food from my own country sucks”. And yet he still like Faerghus’s sweet buns, so...

Pheasant Roast with Berry Sauce : “ Well-roasted Fodlan pheasant drizzled with a berry reduction sauce”.

Again, made with Albinean berries. Are they sweet or sour? Pheasants are eaten by a majority of nobles, but some commoners like it too, Raph (duh), Mercedes, Cyril and Flayn.

Peach Sorbet : “ A sorbet made with thin slices of magically frozen peach, dusted with bean flour”.

Made with, uh, peaches, and chickpeas (?).

Here comes Fodlan’s magic, in that world, people waste i mean use magic to bake/make funny food. If peaches are “magically frozen” then they musn’t be “naturally frozen” (well...) so this dish wasn’t originally from Faerghus. Maybe it’s an Adrestian delicacy and imperial mages are used, during peaceful times, as hired freezers?

Beast Meat Teppanyaki : “ A dish that tastes like wilderness. Thick slices of meat covered with Noa fruit and grilled on a hotplate”

Here another menu graced by House Nuvelle’s graces

Otoh, “beast meat” like... are they using meat from the various monsters? Or, worse, demonic beasts? But then, given what they used to be... not so odd to note, no nabatean likes this meal

Pickled Rabbit Skewers : “ Hunks of rabbit meat are pickled in bacchus, skewered, and roasted over an open flame to create this flavorful dish”

Finally someone cooking something with wine i mean - The only other mention of bacchus we had in the game was in the description of the Feast in Rhea’s trashy novel, apparently “fine bacchus” comes from Boramas, a territory of the Empire not that far from Enbarr. Given how Faerghus’ climate seems a bit too cold for wine, it must grow in the alliance/empire. So this dish is a southern (well) one?

Daphnel Stew :  “Minced poultry and onions boiled with salt. The simple recipe lets high-quality ingredients speak for themselves.”

We have high-quality ingredients in Daphnel, like Raddest Chicken (tm) and Best Salt (tm)? Or onions, you can’t cook without onions.

Or was Daphnel a great cook back in the day? Idk. Still, the alliance seems to be proud of their local products? First Count Gloucester with his sheep, and now Daphnel and their salt - i mean poultry! No one’s famous for their salt, save for, maybe, the guys from Bergliez with the Kingdom and the Alliance said “thks bye” to Adrestia

Gronder Meat Skewers : “ Fatty hunks of Gronder fox cooked slowly on skewers. The meat is magically aged for a full flavor.”

??? Fodlan people eat foxes? Ingredient list requires “wild game” and onions, but still... We all know how Guinivere’s baby fox would have ended then, or an AU where Kaden pops up in Fodlan.

However, here’s the second instance where Magic is used to alter an ingredient’s flavour. How do they “magically” age meat? Can that spell be used on living things to make them decay? It is a Hel “lite”?

Apparently, Cichol was rumoured to have blessed the Gronder Fields with good harvests, but randoms were tired to eat bread every day so they wanted to eat foxes. Not so oddly enough (?) Nabateans aren’t fond of that dish.

Derdriu-Style Fried Pheasant :  “ Pheasant meat is pounded flat and fried. Can be served as a sort of sandwich, with cheese between two strips of meat.”

Fried chicken comes from the Alliance people, and from Derdriu that is to say, from the Riegans. They created fast food, or KFC’s Double Down.

Edel made a wise choice in attacking them and removing the Riegans from the continent in CF

Interesting to note, Hanneman, Manuela and Seteth are fond of this. You cannot write a modern AU without them ordering something at KFC now, you cannot.

Vegetable Pasta Salad : “Pasta with a blend of fresh vegetables from various regions of Fódlan. This popular dish sells out almost instantly.”

Much more healthy! And also more popular? Everyone loves pasta! And does it mean everyone in Fodlan makes their own version of this dish with their local variants (cabbage in Faerghus?) or there are trading routes in the continent where Faerghus’ cabbage can be easily bought by Dude Von Random in the Empire if he wants to eat that salad?

Onion Gratin Soup :  “ Onions stewed with white trout and baked with a layer of cheese on top. Will warm you up from the inside out.”

The trout. Why the trout. Given how nearly everyone from Faerghus is fond of this dish (Linhardt and Marianne are the only non-kingdom students to like it) I’d say it comes from the North, and I remember Gautier being a famous place for “Gautier Cheese”. Also a dish that warms you from the inside would be conceived in a place where it’s cold? Or it’s some sort of comfort food.

Country-Style Red Turnip Plate :  “ A balanced meal including red turnip and verona stew, red turnip salad, and sautéed red turnip with garlic.”

Mostly appreciated by Imperial students, this meal looks healthy, again. Maybe they have a lot of turnips in the Empire, idk. Cichol mixed beetroots and turnips and thought they could give sugar to the empire with all those beetroots but welp they have a crapton of turnip fields now and you can’t make anything with turnips but those silly humans still found a way to accomodate them?

Vegetable Stir-Fry : “A dish of dried tomatoes, cabbage, chickpeas, and other vegetables, stir-fried with eggs. Nutritious and very filling. ���

Not specifically tied to a country. tomatoes would suggest it doesn’t come from Faerghus though. But cabbage? Or it’s some sort of fusion food. Sounds tasty though (unlike the turnip salad)

Grilled Herring : “ Herring caught off the coast of Albinea, shredded and grilled in an earthenware pot with sliced turnips.”

what is wrong with the devs and their love for turnips

This dish uses herring from Albinea, so, unless Fodlanese fishers regularly hang out near a foreign nation’s shores to fish, they must trade. I don’t know if Albinean herring is expensive or if Garreg Mach uses a lot of its budget on Albinean herrings but I suppose there’s at least a main line of supply for this kind of fish.

First you trade fish, next we have exchange students from Albinea

Fish and Bean Soup :  “ A soup made by simmering white trout and chickpeas. A simple yet wholesome dish.”

Only Faerghus students love this meal (and Marianne). It seems plain but if Word of God says it’s wholesome, who am i to criticize?

Fruit and Herring Tart : “ A baked tart with stewed herring and Noa fruit mixed into the batter. Popular in Enbarr, the Imperial Capital.”

To contrast with the previous dish, this pie sounds complicated to make and is, of course, popular in Enbarr. You could make a caricature out of this. Oddly enough, no BE student is fond of this dish. Lorenz is though, previsibly.

Fisherman’s Bounty : “ Freshly-caught fish are cut into chunks and stewed together to make this hearty dish.”

Sponsorised by Indech since it requires a Teutates Loach. Flayn likes it. You only need fish and fish to make this dish which is, uh... well. Dedue’s the only guy to like this.

Fish Sandwich : “A simple dish. Airmid pike is pickled in vinegar and served with cabbage between two slices of bread.“

You average random sandwich, with pickled fish. Petra and Manu are the only non BL people to like this but now that i think about it, since it has cabbage, it must be a dish from Faerghus ? Or Faerghus exports cabbage to the rest of the world, and the rest of the world came up with this idea for a sandwich.

Two-Fish Saute : “Two types of fish are cut into strips and sauteed in butter. This lavish meal hails from Embarr, the Imperial Capital.”

It needs Caledonian Gar and Albinean Herring. Of course it’s lavish, it comes from Embarr. A lot of people are fond of this, Lorenz included, of course. Oddly enough, Leonie likes it too so it musn’t be that expensive?

Bourgeois Pike : “ A gourmet fish dish with Airmid pike, vegetables, and a sprinkle of expensive spices. Popular among nobles.”

It doesn’t come from Enbarr??

It needs a carrot and Airmid Pike. Dedue, Seteth and Manu are the only commoners fond of this dish, but I wonder what are those expensive spices needed. Saffron? Does it even exist in Fodlan? And why is it considered a gourmet dish? The ingredients aren’t that rare.

Calling it now, between Sitri’s resting place, the coffin where Seiros’s supposed to have been laid to rest and the storage room where Rhea does her monthly maintanance for golems, there is a specific room in the Monastery where randoms look after jerky, to make sure it ages properly and doesn’t develop mold or something like that.

Sautéed Jerky : “Jerky aged in the monastery and sautéed for a delightfully salty flavor. A perfect snack to go with your favorite drink.”

Now, Dimitri’s fond of this dish, but since he can’t taste it can it really be said he likes it? OTOH, Hubert likes it too, so our local evil chancelor drinks coffee while munching on chicken jerky. I still don’t understand why chickpeas are needed though.

Spicy Fish and Turnip Stew : “ Spicy stew made with Teutates loach and turnips. The monastery’s unique recipe features spices from Dagda.”

Turnip again

This dish has different local variations, given how the monastery’s one uses spices from Dagda. Is it because Garreg Mach can import spices from Dagda and the other places in Fodlan cannot or aren’t allowed, or because whoever is in charge of the meals in the monastery thought the turnip would taste good with Dagdan spices? Idk. Petra likes it, but Shamir isn’t particulary fond of this dish.

Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté : “ Whitefish is coated in spices and sautéed with dried tomatoes to bring out an addictive salty-sweet flavor.”

Dried tomatoes aren’t “sundried tomatoes” so maybe it’s an oversight, or there is a process (magical or just using an over) to dry tomatoes in Fodlan. This dish is exclusively liked by members of the BL house. Teutates is in Faerghus, but given how the climate is harsh, I don’t think tomatoes grow there? Or maybe they had some sort of magical greenhouses?

Super-Spicy Fish Dango : “ A light snack, popular in the Empire. Small, spicy balls of fried dough packed with white trout and dried tomato.”

This is the opposite of a gourmet or a lavish dish, but it is enjoyed in the Empire and not exclusively in Enbarr. Oddly enough, Hanneman is the only Adrestian fond of this. Leonie and Ingrid are fond of it, is it cheap? Given how it’s a snack and popular, I’d say it is.

c’est un acras de truite à la tomate?

Sautéed Pheasant and Eggs : “Thin slices of bird meat and shredded cabbage, mixed with scrambled eggs and sautéed spices. Invention of a certain noble.”

“a certain noble” WHO??

Ferdie’s fond of it, but I can’t see Aegir peeps inventing meals, and given the ingredients used, I cannot pinpoint an origin. It sounds like a snack. Claude is fond of it.

Garreg Mach Meat Pie : “A crispy-brown pie packed with tomatoes, cheese, and tender chunks of meat.” 

... This is totally comfort food, isn’t it?

Fittingly enough, Manuela is fond of it. Maybe she eats those pies when she has a hangover or something. OTOH, if it wasn’t evident enough with the previous recipes, Garreg Mach develops its own gastronomy, different from what we could find in the Alliance, the Kingdom or the Empire. I actually wonder how they are supplied with food, is everything made in the monastery or are they importing stuff from other places in Fodlan? Since they have Dagdan spices, they also import from Dagda or they grow their own brand of Dagdan spices?

Cheesy Verona Stew : “A rich dish consisting of verona and sautéed Teutates loach. These ingredients are boiled and served with two kinds of melted cheese.”

Dimitri is fond of this dish with all the reservations i expressed above. Hanneman is the only Adrestian fond of this dish, but damn, two melted cheeses in a fish dish? Is it a fish fondue or something?

Pickled Seafood and Vegetables : “A Dagdan dish of raw fish and turnips pickled in a vinegar-based seasoning liquid. Rarely eaten in Fodlan.”

It may be rarely eaten in Fodlan but a lot of students and staff members like this dish! Shamir isn’t part of them, but Hubert is. Since it’s pointed out here, raw fish sounds to be something only people in Dagda eat, or at least, Fodlanese randoms do not eat raw fish. So the pickled fish used in the fish sandwich is actually cooked fish? They made pickles from cooked things? Odd.

Gautier Cheese Gratin : “A gratin of bird meat topped with heaps of Gautier cheese, which is famous for its low fat content. It has a unique flavor.”

Low fat content cheese what kind of insanity - this uses a Noa fruit, even if Nuvelle and Gautier are geographically opposed if you look at a Fodlan map. But whoever invented this dish thought it’d be nice to put a Noa fruit in it, so why not. Dimitri’s fond of it, actually can it be that he likes whatever is cooked with cheese?

dimitri is a cheese lover so automatically dimitri = best lord

Cabbage and Herring Stew : “ Cabbage and Albinean herring stewed whole. The fish guts lend this hearty dish a superbly bitter kick.”

Again thanks to Albinean exports, Hubert can eat his bitter stew. Lorenz is fond of it too, just like Flayn, Manu and Hanneman. i don’t have a lot of things to say about this dish

Scrambled Eggs with Vegetables : “ Fried eggs mixed with tomatoes, cabbage, and chickpeas along with other vegetables and legumes. A highly nutritious dish.”

Again with the joke about hangover food, but Manu likes this “highly nutritious” dish. Given how it is enjoyed by various students across Fodlan, I’d say this dish isn’t tied to one region, but is actually eaten everywhere in the continent.

that’s it no more dishes

[sandsncke]

♔  →  westeros  presents  HELIA SAND,  the  SAND SNAKE  of  DORNE.  a  raven  sent  word  that  she bears  the  resemblance  to AIYSHA HART.  the  TWENTY-SIX  year  old  FEMALE  was  ADROIT  &  DAUNTLESS before  the  dawn  of  war,  but  have  now  become  CALLOUS  &  BLOODTHIRSTY.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  A SMIRK COUPLED BY A GLINT IN DARK EYES THAT MATCHES THE BRIGHT FLASH OF A BLADE BEFORE IT HITS ITS MARK, NIMBLE BUT CALLUSED FINGERS AS QUICK WITH FEATHERS AS THEY ARE WITH KNIVES, THE WHISTLE OF AN ARROW IN THE AIR AND THE PANIC IT CAUSES - BRINGING ONLY A SENSE OF CALM.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with   HOUSE  TARGARYEN,  but  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones. 

Although Helia was conceived around the same time that her mother had a casual relationship with Oberyn there are some doubts about whether he is her true father or not due to him not being the only man in her life at the time. However, as it’s something that can be neither proven or disproved Oberyn still decided to acknowledge her as his own and the other man who could have been her father is long forgotten. The two formed an attachment (the most fondness that she has ever held for someone) and she actively seeks to follow in his footsteps in as many ways as possible.

As soon as she could walk she begun training with her half sisters, eager not to be left behind and even more eager to prove that she was just as much a daughter of the Red Viper as they were. All of her free time was devoted to her learning to be lethal as many ways as she possibly could and it drove a wedge between her and her less battle inclined mother. They still got along well enough (or as well as she is capable of) but if became clear that the two of them would never properly understand one another.

The distance between her and her mother never truly bothered her, the older woman had always had other children to take care of and Hel had always been good at looking after herself. Besides, she had a father and two elder sisters to keep an eye on things until she truly began to be able to look after herself.

As the war unfolded in Westeros she looked upon it with mostly disinterest for which side one (although her father had instilled a health dislike for the Lannisters in her) but a strong desire to be a part of it and truly test her skills. So when the alliance with the Daenarys came along, Hel was one of the first to be behind it wholeheartedly, if only for the action it would provide rather than the cause it was for.

Headcanons -

While she will claim that she couldn’t possibly pick a favourite weapon, the dual blades that she has are undoubtedly the ones she has the most fun with. Archery is arguably where she excels the most - her marksmanship almost unmatched - but she has no love for being so far away from the centre of the action.

Like Oberyn she laces all of her weapons with poison and has been experimenting for years with them to decide which one she likes best. Mostly she goes for the long lasting ones, those that might make someone think that they had been lucky enough to survive a run in with her before she ultimately claims their life.

Despite her mother’s best efforts early in her life, she has always refused to wear a dress and will never wear one if she can help it. She tends to dress more understated than the rest of her countrymen but not out of dislike of the fashion - on the contrary she does let herself enjoy the vibrancy - but out of practicality. 

Now that she has allies outside of just her sisters, Hel has taken to carrying around a knife that has no poison on it just in case she were to lose her temper with someone. She has little interest in people thinking that they are safe from her wrath but it’s also frowned upon to murder those you’re supposed to be on the same side with. Naturally though she still has several other weapons on her person at any one time, all as deadly as the next.

Personality -

There has never been any room for softness in her life and while she hasn’t lack love or care, she struggles to see it as anything but a weakness. She doesn’t make an effort to make room for bonds with others in her life and so generally has little interest in others when interacting with them. But as cold and detached as she is, Hel is still Dornish and can be hot tempered at times. She tends to treat everyone in the same way - blunt, sarcastic and mildly threatening - but those who can count themselves as close to her will know that while it may not seem as though there’s any difference, the delivery of her words changes everything. The majority of the time she’d much rather be left alone to her own devices and won’t take kindly to being disturbed but if you catch her at a good time she might not throw something at you.

Potential plots -

Sparring partners

People she intimidates

People she respects (though will probably never say)

Anyone in camp Targaryen

Someone there’s bad blood with (although probably have to be careful here so she doesn’t just off them XD)

Past flings

She’s not a particularly patient teacher but in the right circumstances I could see her teaching people a few things though she might quickly get bored with it too.

Anything else you might have in mind! I am open to it all

If you want to plot then here is my discord -  andromache#9873

Thank you for getting this far, it is appreciated

[bevioletskies]

everybody wants to rule the world [4/8]

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: 13.7k

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 this chapter in particular - semi-descriptive depictions of panic attacks and violence, plus mentions of blood near the end. yeah, it's that kind of wedding.

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

i can’t stand this indecision...married with a lack of vision...

ao3 | tag

“I’m nervous. Like, really, really frickin’ nervous. Why am I nervous?”

“If you’re talkin’ to me, I ain’t listening,” Yondu snorted from where he was sprawled across Peter’s bed. “And if you’re talkin’ to yourself, it’s too late. Today’s the day, boy. Don’t be getting cold feet now.”

Today was, indeed, the day of the royal wedding, a spectacle that had been completely unheard of just four days ago, now spread across the galaxy like wildfire - the exact opposite of what Peter and Gamora were hoping for. Ego had only just returned from his trip late last night, boasting about all the leaders and other people of particular importance he’d spoken to, inviting them to take notice of their young kingdom, its young leader, and his soon-to-be wife.

To Peter’s dismay, Yondu never got a hold of the guest list again, and could only rattle a few insignificant names that he could recall off the top of his head before shrugging in defeat. Apparently, Ego had locked up his quarters, preventing literally everyone from getting inside, even his own personal attendants and advisors. Peter couldn’t spend too much time worrying about what it meant, though, since he knew Gamora was more anxious about the ambiguity of their wedding guests. She was dreading the thought of facing anyone who would recognize her for who she was, or worse, do something about it.

“I’m not getting cold feet!” Peter exclaimed defensively, turning away from the full-length mirror to face Yondu. “Stop bein’ a jerk and tell me I look good.”

Peter was wearing the fanciest suit he had ever owned, a wine-colored tuxedo jacket over a crisp white dress shirt, paired with a black velvet bow tie, black pleated slacks, and shiny leather loafers. His somewhat unruly hair had been smoothed and styled a little more than usual, his scruff tidied up along his neck and chin. Yondu was admittedly thrown by Peter’s appearance - after all, this was the same boy who made mud pies in the garden (when he was ten) and attempted to wash himself in the fountain before Ego came home (he was not successful). There were plenty of positive words he could use to describe Peter, sure, but “mature” had never really been one of them.

“You got your cologne on, right? Otherwise, you gonna smell like that nightcap from yesterday.”

“I was nervous,” Peter repeated, turning back towards the mirror to scowl at his reflection. “We both know this is the easy part. Afterwards, who knows what’s gonna happen.”

“What, y’ mean the Mad Titan droppin’ in? Can’t imagine that going wrong at all,” Yondu said dryly. “And straighten your tie, Quill. It looks like a compass pointin’ anywhere but north.”

Meanwhile, Gamora was getting ready in the guest quarters, in the company of her people. Her attempts to shoo away the palace attendants were futile, as they refused to let her get dressed without help. She was surprised to find that her people had been provided new clothing for the wedding, though she figured it wasn’t out of generosity, but rather, the presence of others that had motivated Ego to do so. Drax still refused to wear a shirt, and Groot only accepted the tie, but Nebula and Rocket looked both more well-groomed (and more uncomfortable) than they had their entire lives.

“It’s itchy,” Nebula said petulantly, yanking at her shirt collar. “How long do we have to wear these damn things?”

“Festivities usually go late into the night, ma’am,” one of the attendants volunteered, though she seemed to regret speaking up the second Nebula glared at her. “His Majesty’s request, of course,” she added hastily. “He usually likes having events that last for weeks.”

“He don’t have anything better to do?” Rocket snarked. He was sitting cross-legged on the couch in his suit, wrinkling the fine wool material as he did, while jabbing a screwdriver fruitlessly into the device he was working on, making the attendants a little wary of his presence.

“His Majesty takes great pride in providing the very best for his guests and making them feel important,” another attendant said defensively. “I can assure you, most people appreciate his intentions, even if they aren’t privy to social gatherings.”

“Well, we aren’t like most people.” Gamora turned away from the window, stepping down from the small elevated platform once the attendants had finally stopped fussing at her skirts. “Please tell me I’m done.”

“Yes, your highness,” the first attendant said dutifully, straightening up. “If I may say, my lady, you look very lovely.”

“You always radiate such confidence,” the third attendant sighed, her eyes bright as she watched Gamora cross the room to stand by Nebula. “It’s a very admirable quality, your highness. I hope Prince Peter appreciates that about you.”

Gamora wrinkled her brow. “...right. Please leave us.”

The attendants looked disappointed but merely bowed in response. “Yes, your highness,” they chimed in perfect sync before filing neatly out the door, the last one curtsying one more time before closing it behind her. Nebula rolled her eyes at the display before looking up at Gamora.

“You’ll have to put up with that for god knows how long,” Nebula snorted. “Maybe this is Hel.”

Gamora merely waved her off dismissively, attempting to lower herself onto the other end of the couch without crumpling her dress beneath her. “Small annoyances. Look at the bigger picture here, Neb. We need to figure out if there’s anyone in attendance who will cause a problem, and - ”

“ - and take them out?” Drax piped up very suddenly, sounding a little too excited for Gamora’s liking.

“No!” she exclaimed, astonished. “Drax, murder is not the answer. Not in this case, anyways,” she amended. “I was going to say, tell Quill and see if we can get them removed. Chances are if the ‘guest’ knows who I am and came to the wedding anyway, they have the intent to harm, maybe even kill. We can’t let that happen.”

“So what’re we waiting for?” Rocket exclaimed, jumping to his feet, tossing his device aside almost too casually for something so destructive. “Let’s go talk to Quill before the ceremony starts.”

“He refuses to see me,” Gamora sighed. “Apparently, it’s considered bad luck on Terra for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. I reminded him we aren’t on Terra anymore, but then again, when has he ever listened to me?” In actuality, Gamora had relented nearly right away. It was hard to argue with Peter once he looked almost guilty for asking in the first place, backtracking in order to please her. As irritable as he could be, Gamora had no desire to make him fit into her ideas of what she wanted, especially when he’d been so accommodating to her in return.

“I’ll go, then,” Rocket shrugged easily. “I was gonna go meet with Kraglin, anyways. He’s got a whole buncha junk I could scrap for parts. I’ll tell him about the potential murder guest.” Gamora winced a little at Rocket’s euphemism. “Drax, you wanna come with?”

“I would,” Drax nodded, bowing towards the remaining Titans. “I will see you all at the ceremony, provided none of us are caught by surprise and die horrible deaths at the mercy of infiltrators beforehand.”

Gamora couldn’t help but chuckle at Drax’s utter morbidness as he and Rocket took their leave. She turned towards Nebula and Groot, the latter having been sat quietly the whole time. “Well, I suppose now’s a good time as any to get to the transport and get...married.” It was all vocabulary that felt foreign on her tongue - marriage, wedding, husband and wife. What a bizarre thing to do in the name of preventing mass destruction, she thought to herself.

“I am Groot,” Groot said kindly, getting to his feet. He patted her carefully on the shoulder, careful not to snag her veil. “I am Groot.”

“Thank you, Groot,” Gamora said softly, smiling up at him. “I’m glad you think so.” ______

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Nebula snapped. The temptation to kick her sister in the shin was getting stronger by the minute, but it wasn’t worth the risk of definite retaliation.

The two princesses of Titan (and oh, how they loathed the term, especially now that it was getting semi-regular usage) were sat in an old-fashioned carriage, currently stopped at the bottom of the front steps to the palace. The stairs were already packed with people clamoring to get a better look at the rest of the wedding party stood in front of the fountain, while the midsection was roped off and supervised by members of the guard. Their presence didn’t make Gamora feel much better, however, even though Kraglin had reassured Rocket and Drax that all the guests had been searched for weapons or other oddities before stepping foot on the planet. Something in her gut told her there had to be someone out there up to something, and for once, instinct was winning over logic.

“Excuse me for wanting to get this over with,” Gamora replied snidely, though she moved her fingernails away from the glass. “I only have so much patience, Nebula.”

“And apparently, not enough sleep,” Nebula snarked in return, sitting up from where she had been slumped against the window, apprehensively watching the crowd. Though she didn’t like agreeing with her sister out loud, she was also certain that there had to be at least one person among the hundreds with the intent to harm them.

Peter, meanwhile, was stood at the top of the stairs, rocking back and forth on his heels in anticipation, hands clasped neatly behind his back to hide the way they were trembling. Ego was eyeing him disapprovingly from a couple feet away, but knew he couldn’t chastise his son right then and there, not when everyone else was watching. Chancellor Yorke was stood behind the podium, ready to officiate, while Mantis and Yondu also stood a little way away from Peter as well, dressed in their very finest. Drax, Rocket, and Groot were on the opposite side of the wedding arch where Gamora was going to be, looking thoroughly bored. Even Groot, who usually defaulted to a serene smile, was practically drooping.

A moment passed before the conductor suddenly startled at the sound of an invisible cue and raised his baton to signal Gamora’s arrival. The orchestra burst into song - the traditional Terran wedding march, to be exact - causing everyone in the wedding party to stand a little straighter, while the crowd turned their gaze towards the bottom of the steps.

Gamora had stepped out of the carriage and was ascending the stairs, taking it one at a time as Mantis had instructed her. Even from far away, Peter could tell by the look in her eyes that she'd rather sprint her way up as fast as she possibly could. Nebula was following closely behind, keeping an eye on the train of her dress and its accompanying veil, though she didn’t look pleased about her job.

Peter, knowing that Gamora was going take at least a full minute to reach him, found himself observing her appearance, utterly mesmerized. He had already become so accustomed to the training gear she wore most of the time, or the ceremonial garb she had arrived in that was more suitable for a battlefield than a ballroom. What she was wearing now, though the complete opposite of what Gamora would have liked, was incredibly beautiful.

Her dress boasted a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt with layers upon layers of rose-gold tulle, fanning out into a modest two-foot train. Shimmering gold floral embroidery curled its way down the bodice and spanning the entire dress, winding around her shoulders and arms like it was growing from her vibrant skin. Her hair was in a half-updo, tendrils framing her face, with the rest of it twisted complexly at the back and held in place with a small pearl pin. Lastly, her veil, the exact color of the dress, descended from the crown of her head to the floor, just barely grazing her cheekbones as she walked. The softness in her appearance was a stark contrast to the coolness in her eyes, though it wasn’t quite the same expression she wore when they had first met. It wasn’t so much confidence as it was acceptance of the situation, or at least, that’s how Peter interpreted it.

He reached for her once she finally took her place across from him, joining their hands together and squeezing gently. “You look awesome,” he mouthed reassuringly. She cracked the tiniest of smiles in return, but otherwise looked stiff and unyielding.

Chancellor Yorke bent slightly to speak into the microphone, a warm grin on her face. “Friends, family, and esteemed guests, we are gathered here today to join Prince Peter of the Celestials and Princess Gamora of the Titans in marriage. Though they have known each other for a rather short amount of time, there are many out there that can speak to the strong emotional bond they have already formed.”

Peter choked out a stilted laugh. Gamora narrowed her eyes at him in response. Really? “Sorry,” Peter mumbled, mostly to Chancellor Yorke. “I’m just so...overcome. With emotion.” Now it was Gamora’s turn to bite back her snort of disbelief.

The chancellor gave him a confused smile before looking back out to the crowd. “In legally affirming their relationship, we are not only marrying two individuals, but marrying the old with the new, tried and true traditions with untraditional ideas - even unusual, you might say,” she added with a laugh. “The Titans are one of the oldest royal families in the entire galaxy, and certainly one of the most revered. The Celestials, on the other hand, are of a new kind, growing and learning with its people. By bringing Prince Peter and Princess Gamora together, we are acknowledging that harmony and peace can be accomplished between complete opposites. We can make connections with people and ideas that otherwise share nothing in common. And by doing so, we strengthen everyone, and create a togetherness like no other.”

Gamora felt her eye twitch a little, wondering if Chancellor Yorke was aware of what she was getting wrong and so utterly right at the same time. In her peripheral vision, she could see Ego nodding along approvingly as if he wasn’t trying to create togetherness by destroying everyone else.

“And now, I ask for the couple to make their vows.”

Peter brightened then, having dozed off a little in the last fifteen seconds. He turned away from the chancellor to look Gamora in the eye, his gaze gentle, yet steady. “In the short amount of time we’ve known each other, I can already say that it’s been awesome getting to spend time with you. The conversations and moments we’ve shared make me hopeful that our marriage will be a happy one. And in marriage, I promise to remain loyal and faithful, to make sure you feel happy and respected, and for the days where you feel like you’re in a dark place - ” he released her hands to unclasp his right hand, his palm open towards the sky “ - to be your guiding star.”

A warm ball of white light hovered a mere inch above his hand, turning over and over again the way it had when he made her engagement ring. This time, the light melted away to reveal a small crystal hairpin in the shape of a constellation, one she couldn’t identify on sight. The crowd cooed below them, whispers aflutter among the spectators, but Gamora only eyed Peter cautiously as she bowed to allow him to slide it into her hair, above her left ear. Though they had been training for the last few days, throwing each other around for hours at a time, there was something much more intimate about the feeling of his fingertips grazing her temples despite the fact they weren’t touching anywhere else. She shivered involuntarily.

“I would have never imagined myself getting married,” Gamora began, much less steady than Peter had been. She hadn’t practiced her vows nearly as much as he did - she thought them to be pointless, and she’d never been one for flowery bombast. “Especially not to someone who says such melodramatic things.” The crowd seemed tickled by this, laughing as if she had told some great joke. Gamora paused to look at them, alarmed by the sound of their laughter, before realizing that somehow, they were starting to warm to her presence. “But our time together has been unlike anything I’ve experienced, and I’m grateful for every moment of it. In marriage, I promise to remain steadfast and unwavering, to keep you full of joy and laughter, and to protect you in the ways that only a warrior can - with everything that I have.”

Peter grinned widely at that, pleased by her promises, however false they might be. Though they were spending more time together outside of their duties and obligations, slowly building the shaky foundations of their (potentially temporary) friendship, she still wasn’t one for emotional expression. He could, at the very least, appreciate her efforts, and even more so, be impressed by the outcome.

The ceremony continued on with the exchanging of rings, with Peter becoming so nervous that he nearly dropped them. The crowd tittered at this, but the Celestial civilians seemed to enjoy his antics as always. Finally, the chancellor stepped forward once more. The grin on her face was infectious.

“Blessed be, by the powers of our masters - Death, Entropy, Infinity, and Eternity - I pronounce Prince Peter and Princess Gamora husband and wife!” Chancellor Yorke boomed, her arms spread wide. “You may kiss the bride.”

The next minute or so blurred into a haze for Gamora, as if she were in a dream. Peter swept her closer, his hands on the small of her back while he brushed his lips against hers, so briefly that it was over in a blink. The crowd erupted into deafening applause and shouts of joy, the orchestra exploded into a cacophony of sound, and flower petals rained down on them so thickly that by the time Gamora found her headspace again, she could barely see Peter’s face at all.

He ducked back in after she had taken a moment to breathe, his mouth now ghosting against her ear. Gamora couldn’t describe the feeling of his lips on hers if she tried. She shivered again. “It’s over,” he whispered. “Though I can’t say that that was the hard part.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the optimistic one,” Gamora drawled, though it felt like a considerable weight was lifted off her shoulders. It was an irrational feeling, considering the ceremony was only one step of many - a mostly irrelevant one, at that - but something about the vows, the crowd, and Ego’s presence made her uneasy.

After some time had passed and what felt like a few hundred photographs had been taken, the wedding party made their way back down the steps with Peter and Gamora leading the way. The crowd reached out across the barriers in an attempt to touch their shoulders or shake their hands in congratulations, though the guard made sure no one came even close. Peter helped Gamora back into the carriage she had arrived in, gathering up handfuls of her skirt and veil to keep them from getting caught, before following her inside, sitting across from her where Nebula had been. Once the carriage door had shut behind him, it was as if all the sound in the world instantly evaporated around them, leaving only a welcome silence.

“Well, I’m...sweaty.” Peter reached for the handkerchief in his inside jacket pocket and began patting his forehead dry. There was a visible sheen to his face, and his hairline wasn’t quite as neat as before. He held the handkerchief out to her in offering. She glanced at the damp cloth briefly before shaking her head. He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I was so freaking nervous the whole time, and that is not something I’ll usually admit to.”

“Really, Quill, being ‘my guiding star’? Who was responsible for that one?” Gamora teased.

“Me, thank you very much,” he pouted. “You didn't like that? I thought it was very romantic.”

“Apropos, if anything. I thought your father was about to start weeping,” she chuckled, now bringing her feet up onto the seat beneath her. “He really is infatuated with the idea of you being infatuated with me. Who knows why, since it has no bearings on his attempts on the Infinity Gauntlet.”

“I’m not exactly a relationship kind of guy. Our marriage probably helps him pretend I’ve reached peak ‘adulthood’ as if he wasn’t the one who set this up in the first place,” Peter replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s just stupid parenting crap. Ignore him.”

“It’s hard to. We were having such a peaceful time these last few days without his presence,” Gamora sighed. “I’m not looking forward to formal dinners and ‘friendly’ chats again. I feel like I have to check every corner I turn.”

“That’s how it felt when I was growing up. Maybe I can claim my ‘adulthood’ means I can finally move away from home,” he said jokingly. “Find my own place to live and get a job that’s more than just shaking hands for a few hours every couple weeks.”

She softened. “Give yourself more credit, Quill. I’ve seen how you are with your people, and you’re clearly a very good leader. Imagine what you could do if you were given true political power.”

“You mean if I became king?” He hummed thoughtfully. “Why, do you wanna be the queen now?”

“I was under the impression we were getting divorced as soon as our fathers are gone,” she answered, curling a little further into herself.

Peter didn’t respond. Gamora turned away from him, sensing that she had hurt his feelings. Ever since the engagement party, she was becoming more attuned to his sensitivities, knew where not to poke and prod - his mother, for example. He mentioned her often enough, but it just wasn’t something for Gamora to bring up on her own. But here, she was under the impression that she and Peter were on the same page when it came to their marriage - that it was irrelevant, just a means to an end. It would serve no purpose after the deed was done. Divorce was inevitable, was it not?

“We are here, your highnesses,” the driver announced loudly through the screen.

Both of them startled, not realizing that the carriage had already been stopped for a full minute. They stepped out into the gardens at the back of the palace, already elegant enough on its own, now further transformed by the Collector’s doing. Posts covered in winding vines were used to hoist up sheer glittering drapes, with fairy lights woven in to give the illusion of a twinkling sky. Large floral displays were stationed along every path, along with tall banquet tables draped with pure white tablecloths, boasting endless trays of appetizers. There was a row of thrones by the fountain that were currently unoccupied, identical to those inside the palace, and a little off to the side, two long bars where there had to be at least half a dozen bartenders hard at work, as most the guests had flocked there immediately. Gamora couldn’t blame them - she was feeling a bit peckish herself.

Peter almost immediately spotted Ego and his shimmering golden cape, currently in conversation with Nova Prime, Lady Basha, and Senator Ponarian, all of whom were very influential across the galaxy. Of course. Peter rolled his eyes at his father’s obviousness before turning back towards Gamora, who looked uncertain of what to do next.

“I don’t see your people yet,” he commented, scanning the crowd. “Stay by me for now, they’ll turn up eventually.”

“I don’t think they’ll be received very warmly by these...guests,” Gamora said, her eyes locking on Lady Karaba. She was known for enslaving unique, powerful beings, her collection consisting mostly of Inhumans. She would certainly be interested in Rocket and Groot. “It’s not just my safety I’m worried about. Maybe it’s best they keep their distance and go back inside instead.”

“What about your sister?” Peter asked. “I know this kind of thing isn’t really her style, but - ”

“Your highness.” An attendant approached them, accompanied by an unfamiliar man in ornate robes and gold-plated armor. “Ambassador Ragnvaldr wishes to present you with a gift from his kingdom in person. We have already inspected it for anything that may do you or Princess Gamora any harm, and have deemed it safe for your consumption.”

“Uh, thanks.” Peter coughed awkwardly. “Hey, Ambassador, how’s it going?”

The ambassador looked mildly perturbed by Peter’s casual diction before holding up the small gift-wrapped box, bowing his head deeply in respect. “The Prince of Asgard sends you his congratulations, and wishes to express his regret that he could not be here.”

“Oh, awesome!” Peter exclaimed, accepting the box and bowing briefly in return. “It’s more of that Asgardian mead, right?”

“Yes, sire, aged for a thousand years, in the barrels built from the wreck of Brunnhilde's fleet - ”

“Trust me, I’ve heard the stories. If you see Valkyrie, tell her I said hi,” Peter added, grinning as heartily clapped Ambassador Ragnvaldr on the shoulder. “Oh, and of course, please pass on my thanks to Thor. Also, remind him that he owes me, like, a thousand units from our last bet.”

“I shall...endeavor to do so, your highness.” The ambassador looked increasingly baffled. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Prince Peter, Princess Gamora. I think I’ll take my leave now.”

“I’ll show you to your ship,” the attendant volunteered quickly, and the two of them scrambled off after a polite but brief bow. Gamora tried her hardest not to laugh as Peter just shrugged, oblivious. He led her towards the bar, apparently wanting to drink some of the mead right away.

“Bet?” she asked, watching as he unwrapped the box. The nearest bartender looked a little offended as Peter triumphantly pulled out the small flask of liquor.

“Who could beat who in an arm wrestling contest,” he explained, waving the open bottle under his nose and sighing happily as he did. “This was back when I was fifteen and he was...you know, I’m not even gonna try and guess. Either way, he’s gonna tell you he won, but it was totally me.” He held out the flask. “Care for a drink?”

“Oh, why not,” she sighed, her smile slowly growing. He beamed triumphantly before ducking behind the bar to grab two glasses, nodding at the now-irritated bartender as he did. Peter poured out a small amount of the mead into each glass before offering one to Gamora and holding his up in the air.

“We should toast to something,” he suggested. “Got any ideas?”

She paused to think, then raised her own glass in response. “To a new alliance. In more ways than one,” she added with a smirk. They both downed the liquor, wincing as they did. “That is...potent,” Gamora coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Kinda made my teeth numb,” Peter agreed, laughing. “Hey, I’ll save the rest for another time. We should really start socializing soon, or Dad’s gonna be suspicious.”

Ego had, in fact, been eyeing them from across the room ever since they had moved to the bar. When he noticed Peter was watching him in return, his face softened as he waved briefly before turning back towards his companions. “If we take our seats up there, that should signify we’re ready to be approached, right?” Gamora asked, gesturing towards the thrones by the fountain.

“Yeah, good idea,” Peter nodded. “Lead the way.”

Gamora carved a neat path through the crowd, smiling vacantly at those who reached out to congratulate her and Peter, who was following close behind. Once they had settled into their respective thrones, she was proven correct - dozens of people flocked to them instantly, clamoring for attention. Yondu and Mantis popped up out of nowhere and followed suit, with Mantis also taking a seat, while Yondu stood tall by Peter’s side.

Unsurprisingly, children, who were less concerned about rules, pushed their way to the front of the crowd and began throwing their arms around Peter and Mantis. A few young girls even shyly approached Gamora. “Your speech about Prince Peter was real nice,” one of the older children said, grinning widely. “I’m glad you’re our new princess.” Gamora, stunned, could only nod silently in response.

After a handful of adults passed through, mostly people Peter had never met before but pretended that he had, the Collector stepped forward, flanked by his attendants as always. He was wearing an even more obnoxiously loud outfit than he had been when they first met. “Your highnesses,” he cooed, bowing deeply, tossing his cape over his shoulder and nearly hitting Carina in the face. “Allow me to extend my congratulations - it was a wonderful ceremony.”

“Thank you, Tivan,” Gamora replied, exchanging dubious glances with Peter. “Your assistance has been of great value to us.”

“Yeah, everything looks amazing,” Peter chimed in. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you find such rare goods? I have a few friends that are into collectibles, and I’m always looking for birthday presents, y’know?”

Tivan straightened up, staring at him inquisitively for an almost uncomfortably long period of time before answering. “I reside on Knowhere, my lord. It’s something of a haven for...unsavory activity, if you get my meaning. It’s all about connections and the people I encounter, and sometimes, it’s just valuable pieces falling into my possession.”

“I was there once,” Gamora murmured to Peter. “No regulations whatsoever, suitable only for outlaws looking for highly dangerous and illegal work. I see where your mind is going, and it wouldn’t make sense.”

“How do you - ”

“A refuge for your people after this place is gone,” she whispered knowingly. “It wouldn’t be safe for them, especially for children.”

“Damn,” Peter muttered before turning back to the Collector. “That sounds pretty cool. Maybe I’ll check it out sometime.”

“I would love for you to drop by,” Tivan said, smiling unsettlingly. “And before I take my leave, your highness, I have a quick question for you. How did your father come into contact with my brother?”

“Your brother?” Peter asked, confused.

“Yes, perhaps you’ve heard of him. He’s best known as the Grandmaster, runs an ancient little competition on Sakaar?” Tivan prompted. “He’s not the type to reach out to others, you see, he’s much too busy for that. He really only responds to those who come to him.”

“I - sorry, Tivan, I’ve never heard my dad mention him,” Peter shrugged. “Why?”

“Your father extended a wedding invitation to him. He declined since he’s too preoccupied with his little contest, but my brother and I, we have one guilty pleasure in common,” Tivan admitted with a sly smirk. “I fancy myself a collector of prized objects. He fancies himself a collector of prized beings. I just thought there was a chance your father and my brother kept in contact in case Ego ever came across someone that fit my brother’s criteria during his travels. Someone more suitable for Sakaar than for here. An agreement, perhaps?”

“Father has no agreement of the sort,” Mantis said firmly, speaking for the first time since Tivan had approached them. “Should you ask him about it, I am certain he would be offended by your accusations of such lowly behavior.”

“My lady, I did not mean - ”

“He does not use people for sport or entertainment,” she continued. “He brings them here to help them live better lives. Your insinuation that he would assist the Grandmaster’s violation of freedom goes against everything this planet is about. Please do not say such a thing ever again.” Peter and Yondu stared at Mantis, astonished.

“I didn’t mean to offend, your highness. My deepest apologies to you and your father,” Tivan murmured, bowing once more. Carina and Ophelia looked stunned at his display of humility. “I have clearly overstepped my welcome. I shall leave.”

Once the Collector and his attendants had gone, Yondu quickly stepped in to shoo the crowd away before approaching Mantis. “Are you alright, girl? I haven’t seen you that angry since...well, ever.”

“I am not angry,” Mantis protested. “I just know I had to do something.”

“But you just said last week - ”

“I know what I said,” Mantis interrupted, turning to look at Peter. “I will not mourn him when he is gone. But how do you think he will react if he found out we did not defend him? Every time we act out against him now, it will make him suspicious. And trust me, he is getting more suspicious every day.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Gamora, who looked unusually rueful, twisted at the new wedding band on her ring finger. “Any change in your personalities, your behaviors, he’s going to attribute them to my presence. He already thinks I’m influencing you, Quill. And if he gets too close to the truth…” She trailed off, waving a hand.

“Exactly,” Mantis nodded, giving Gamora a grateful smile. “We have to continue acting as we have always done. Otherwise, we will end up like - ” She froze suddenly, her eyes blown wide.

Peter leaned in closer, concerned. She was seemingly fixated on something he couldn’t see in the distance. “End up like what?”

“Nothing,” Mantis exclaimed, shaking herself out of her reverie. She shrunk back into her seat when she noticed how close Peter had gotten, glancing over at Yondu. He only shook his head at her in silent warning.

“No, Mantis, tell me, end up like what?” Peter said urgently, reaching for her arm, but Yondu quickly stepped in between their seats before he could make contact.

“Don’t be botherin’ your sister like that, boy,” Yondu said lowly. “She said it was nothin’.”

Peter looked up at Yondu, more perplexed than ever as he slowly withdrew his hand. “Yondu, what are you - ”

“Gamora.” Now it was Nebula who had interrupted, stood about as dramatically as possible, chin tilted upwards in defiance. “There’s a call for you in the guest quarters. You need to take it now.”

“Where are the others?” Gamora asked, slowly getting to her feet.

“Patrolling the area for intruders,” Nebula replied impatiently. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Have they found anything suspicious yet?” Gamora pressed.

“What part of ‘let’s go’ did you not comprehend?” Nebula snapped, snatching up Gamora’s wrist. “Don’t make me drag you the whole way there, sister.”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Gamora called over her shoulder before running off with Nebula, very nearly tripping over her dress a few times before she had even disappeared from sight. Peter, who was incredibly bewildered at this point, was unsure of whether to continue questioning Mantis or to follow Gamora and see if he could help. Yondu seemed to have decided for him, as he dragged the next random wedding guest up to stand before him, shooting Peter one last warning glance before standing by his side once more. ______

“Father, you’ve picked an odd time to call.” Gamora knelt carefully in front of the holo-screen, taking every caution not to ruin her dress as she did. They had returned to the guest quarters in record time, where the somewhat terrified-looking attendant who had notified Nebula about the call in the first place was standing by. Gamora had shooed her off immediately, knowing it wasn’t a conversation meant for an audience. “Has something happened?”

“Yes, I - what are you wearing?” Thanos’s brow wrinkled in confusion, the first time either sister had ever seen him look remotely uncertain.

“My wedding dress, Father, the ceremony just ended,” she reminded him. Although he obviously didn’t care about the wedding whatsoever, she would have expected him to at least remember it for the context of his schemes.

“Of course,” he said, nodding sharply. “Yes, I have spoken with Ego recently. He wanted to clarify our arrangements, ensure that I would approve of your new title and your new living situation.”

Gamora held back the urge to roll her eyes - honestly, did Ego really think Thanos cared about any of that? “Princess of the Celestials, you mean?” she shrugged. “It’s only words. Titles are meaningless when they hold no clout.”

“He also told me something quite interesting,” Thanos continued, ignoring her. “Did you know, girl?”

She faltered. “Know...what, Father?”

“Don’t play games with me, child,” he warned, his eyes narrowed. “Did you know that killing Ego would strip his son of his Celestial power?”

Gamora’s blood ran cold, her breath nearly hitching had she not caught herself. She swallowed, though not hard enough for him to see. Nebula looked at her inquisitively over the edge of the screen. “No, I had no idea. I would have told you the second I knew, Father, you know that.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” he spat. He leaned in closer, his face filling up the entire screen, beady dark eyes challenging her to say otherwise.

“No, but I understand your suspicions. But I promise you, I have nothing to gain out of keeping secrets, and everything to lose if I do,” she replied evenly, drumming her fingers silently on her lap. “Had I known, I would have changed course. You know me, Father, I’m not one to waste my time, or yours. Now that we know killing Ego is out of the question, what’s our next play?”

Thanos sat back in his seat, though he still looked disgruntled. “It’s become clear to me that Ego’s weakness is his son. Prey on that, Gamora. But you’ll have to do it with consideration, so slowly that he never suspects a thing.”

“I don’t follow,” Gamora admitted, bowing her head slightly in submission. “What are you asking of me?”

“The only way Ego will cooperate is if we have leverage. And not just physical possessions or excessive wealth, no. He’s a man of compassion, of emotion,” Thanos sneered, as if it were something dirty. “So make Ego feel as if the boy’s love for him is slipping away to start. Weaken him. The boy must spend more time with you than his father, love you more than he loves his father. It will make Ego so very desperate.”

Gamora mused over the idea as he spoke. As much as she hated its dishonesty, credit where credit was due - it was smart. She knew the Titans had a reputation for being more bloodthirsty than any other, with a lust for nothing but war, but war required strategy. Thanos was no ignoramus, that was for sure.

“And what then?” she asked.

“When I arrive, we slowly take the boy apart, piece by piece, until Ego agrees to help us to spare the boy’s life.”

Gamora inhaled sharply. It was as if someone had punched her in the stomach. “Father - ”

“We’ll kill the boy eventually, of course,” Thanos said airily, waving his hand in casual nonchalance. “In fact, it might have to be the last thing we do to break Ego. Maybe we have to kill his people before he finally starts to beg for relief. But that is entirely his fault. And why is that, Gamora?”

“Sentiment...is a weakness,” she said slowly. Her legs were trembling beneath her despite being seated, an uncontrollable quiver that she could only pray Thanos couldn’t see. “His love for his son...and his people...they will be his end. His reason for giving in to you.”

“I’ve taught you well,” he nodded. “If you do as I ask, Gamora, maybe you can keep the boy as your...companion. We might have to bring him out in front of Ego every now and then, hurt him a little bit. But perhaps his company will please you.”

“A personal toy? How generous,” Gamora smirked, though just saying it made her skin crawl. She was trying her best to remember how she usually spoke, but by being on Ego’s planet, by being in Peter’s presence, she was already starting to slip up. Her language, her diction, they lacked the bite that she had grown so accustomed to when she had no choice but to fight. Now that she had the choice, her words became softer as a result.

“Go back to your proceedings,” Thanos ordered with a sharp, militant nod. “And remember what you must do.”

With an abrupt bzzt, his face vanished from the screen, leaving the room silent, yet Gamora could practically feel him still breathing down her neck as if he were standing right behind her. “How could he?” she whispered.

“Thanos? It sounded like his typical dramatics as per usual,” Nebula shrugged, aiming for her usual indifference, though the shiver in her voice betrayed her.

“Not Thanos, Ego,” Gamora hissed, getting to her feet. “He just simultaneously made himself irreplaceable to our father while sacrificing his own son. He may pretend that our marriage is nothing more than a political alliance in good faith, but he’s clever. Really clever. He’s made Thanos need him. But he’s also made it clear that Quill is expendable. Ego could have lied and said he was just as important to the existence of the Celestial power, but no. Instead, he gave Thanos a clear target for when - and I do mean when - things go wrong.”

“So his so-called love for Quill, that was a lie?” Nebula remained seated, staring up at her sister in uncertainty.

Gamora let out a hollow laugh, pacing the length of the room. “His name is Ego. There is nothing he will ever love more than his own existence. And he’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive, even if it means being the catalyst for his own son’s death.”

“Then we tell Quill and the others what’s going on,” Nebula persisted.

“No.” Gamora shook her head adamantly, her back to the room. She could almost see the gardens through the large bay window, hear the soft strains of music and conversation floating up to them. “No, we tell the others, and we put them at risk. Ego and Thanos have already begun their twisted games by keeping tabs on each other. If Quill can’t keep up with yet another lie, word will get back to Thanos. And if he finds out that I’m not doing as told, he’ll likely come here and kill everyone himself.”

“You think Quill can’t pull it off,” Nebula said curiously. “Well, it looks like you don’t trust him as much as you say.”

Gamora turned away from the window. “This isn’t about trust, Nebula. He’s been feigning ignorance his whole life - pretending that Ego is a good man and a caring father. Continuing to do so isn’t too much to ask for, and that’s all he’s been doing thus far. We’ve already asked too much of him.”

Nebula snorted, finally standing as well. “Then you’re more confident in your ability to make him care for you than his ability to pretend he does. How typical of you.”

“At least attempting it while he’s ignorant is better than failing at pretending when everyone is self-aware,” Gamora said quietly. “It will only risk my life, and not theirs. You tell no one, Nebula. Not even our people. The less who know what Thanos knows, the better. Ego is only going to become more and more of a shadow as time goes on, and any secret he becomes aware of will get everyone killed.”

“And that would be a shame,” Nebula drawled. “Well then, let’s not keep your prince waiting.” ______

Lido missed the boat that day...he left the shack...but that was all he missed...and he ain't comin’ back...

Peter sat impatiently, tapping his fingers along the armrest to the beat of the song. It was almost time to begin afternoon tea, which would then be followed by the wedding reception, leading late into the night. Ego, thankfully, had listened to Peter and limited the festivities to a single day, but it still felt too long. Peter kind of just wanted to retreat to his room, crawl under the sheets, and sleep for a few days, maybe a week. He was starting to think that he liked the idea of weddings more than actually being part of one.

Gamora had been gone for an hour by now, and he was beginning to worry. He also hadn’t seen head nor tail of any of her people since Nebula had come to steal her away, and he was starting to wonder if their superstition about someone coming to harm her was more than just paranoia. In a way, Peter could understand how these hypothetical people were feeling, whoever they were. He knew if his mother’s brain cancer had manifested into a physical person, he would want to take them down, too. It was a childish train of thought, but he had felt so useless, watching her slip away, that he wanted something tangible, somewhere to place the blame, someone who could claim responsibility for her death so he could get some sense of closure.

At a tombstone bar...in a jukejoint car...he made a stop...just long enough...to grab a handle off the top...

“Relax, son.” Peter turned to look at Ego, who joined him not too long ago, drinking in all the praise heaped upon him by the wedding guests who had stopped by for a chat. “She’ll be back any minute now. Why don’t you go join your sister? She looks like she could use some company.”

Mantis, in fact, did not look like she needed any company at all. She was standing a good distance away, surrounded by children as she often was, listening to their stories and looking right at home. “She looks fine, Dad, you know she loves hanging out with kids more than adults,” Peter said dismissively. “I just hope Gamora’s doing okay, that’s all.”

“She’s something special, isn’t she?” There was a smile in Ego’s voice, nearing the quiet melancholy he usually reserved for talking about Meredith. “I know I’ve been teasing you a whole bunch, Peter, but you really do seem to like her. And I don’t blame you. Underneath all that...edge, she seems like she’ll do some real good. Be a good influence on you and our people. I think your mother would've liked her." They both fell silent for a moment. "Now, just because you’re married, it doesn’t mean your job is done. Treat her right, and you’ll be rewarded.”

Lido woah oh oh oh...he's for the money...he's for the show...Lido's waiting for the go...

Peter paused. “Rewarded with...what? Wait, no, I don’t wanna know,” he said, grimacing. Ego chuckled, shaking his head.

“I don’t know where your mind is at,” Ego teased. “I meant loyalty, son. Her devotion to you! Her understanding that you are a very special person, and she should be honored to rule by your side.”

Before Peter could properly respond - and how could he, really, to something so arrogant - another voice interrupted. “I do hope you’re speaking about me, your majesty.” Gamora curtsied deeply before smiling beatifically at them. “I would hate to find out that my husband has multiple lovers at a time like this.”

Ego only laughed again, getting to his feet. “I told you she’d be back!” he said cheerfully. “I’ll leave you two be. I need to talk to the chefs about setting up for the rest of the day, anyways. See you both at teatime.”

“Bye, Dad,” Peter called after him as Gamora settled back into her throne. Some guests milled about nearby, uncertain about whether to approach them, but Yondu stepped in to wave everyone off, knowing Peter wanted to have a private moment. “Everything okay? You were gone for awhile.”

“It was just my father,” Gamora said, shrugging.

“Yeah, and your father’s a psycho warmonger,” he snorted. “So there’s gotta be more to it than that. What’d he want?”

“Just making sure I followed through with the wedding,” she replied easily. “He was probably secretly worried that I slipped off or something and ruined his plans. And what of you and your father? You looked rather cozy just now.”

“We have our moments,” he said, smiling almost bitterly. He had leaned in close enough that Gamora could almost detect a hint of star-laced purple in his eyes, something that had looked so dangerous before, now manifesting in something rather beautiful, if a little sad. “Anyways, there were a bunch of people asking about you. You ready?”

“If I must,” she said resignedly, turning to look at the hesitant crowd. She was pretty sure she was going to throw something if she got just one more question about her hair or who had made her dress. Honestly, did no one have anything better to talk about?

Afternoon tea began soon after, another Terran tradition that Peter had only heard of but never actually participated in as a child. Gamora was beginning to suspect all of Peter’s wedding suggestions were derived from his incredibly limited knowledge of his home planet, narrowed down to the eight years of pop culture he had lived through before being taken away.

Long iron-wrought tables were set up in the gardens, paired with matching dining chairs, covered in sheer tablecloths and large vases of white roses. The bars were shut down and shuffled out of sight, and trays of bite-sized food were brought out instead, along with what looked like hundreds of sets of fine china (golden in color, of course), accompanied by steaming pots of tea. Gamora silently questioned the choice to have tea after everyone was already pleasantly tipsy, if not flat-out drunk, but again, Peter’s planning didn’t appear to be the most...logical.

She was grateful, at least, that everyone was sitting down, and she was surrounded by her people instead of being swarmed by guests. She had answered more questions about her life (falsely, at times, when the truth would be too much for strangers to handle) in the last thirty minutes than she had in the last twenty years. Compared to what Peter referred to as “cocktail hour” (another falsehood, it had lasted far beyond its allotted sixty minutes), afternoon tea flew by quickly and painlessly, even with Ego sitting so close by, his gaze seemingly zeroed in on her and Peter as they talked.

After Gamora had taken a breather, she felt a little bit better about the whole situation. Thanos’s words had sent her into a temporary panic, but now, as she sat by Peter’s side, chatting easily with him about mundane niceties with Ego in earshot, she figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to dupe him on her own. Besides, she knew Peter already liked spending time with her, and making him happy seemed like an easy enough task - happiness came easy to him. All she needed to do was make sure Ego was close enough to see and report back to Thanos. The very thought made her shiver, but at least it would keep Peter and everyone else safe.

As it began to grow dark, guests slowly shuffled their way into the palace, milling about the enormous parlor as the attendants finished preparing the ballroom. According to Peter, it had only ever been used for his and Mantis’s coronations and birthday parties, but otherwise remained untouched.

“You still look surprisingly put together for someone who was sweating like an animal earlier,” Gamora commented, tentatively patting Peter on the chest. Ego was watching from a fair distance away, nodding approvingly as she did. “As for me, I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired, and I once sprinted across Easik for five days straight.”

“Wow, was that a compliment?” Peter teased, placing his hand over hers, clasped loosely over his heart. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Oh, you’re impossible,” she said, though she laughed as she spoke, withdrawing her hand. “I just want this day to be over with. Maybe I’m getting delirious in my exhaustion.”

He chuckled, opening his mouth to respond, before being interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat politely. “Sorry to interrupt, your highnesses, but I was wondering if I could speak with you in private, Princess Gamora.”

Nova Prime was stood before them, smiling warmly, though cautiously. Gamora looked to Peter in a brief moment of uncertainty before turning back to the other woman. “Of course, Nova Prime. Maybe in the gardens, away from everyone else?”

“See you inside,” Peter murmured, bowing to them both before disappearing into the crowd. Gamora led Nova Prime back outside, her stomach twisting unpleasantly in anticipation of what she could possibly have to say.

“Nova Prime, about my outburst from a few nights ago - ”

“Please, your highness. I was hoping to apologize to you,” Nova Prime insisted. “It wasn’t my place to say those things about you, especially in front of Prince Peter. I imagine he was still forming his first impressions, and I almost tainted them by treating you like a criminal. I know it’s not much of an excuse, but sometimes I forget I’m not on the clock. Married to the job, you know?” she added with a wry laugh.

“Still, I’m not proud of how I acted,” Gamora confessed. “I am not that person. At least, I don’t want to be. Not anymore.”

“And I’m glad to hear it.” Nova Prime smiled gently. “Because I also wanted to let you know that my offer still stands. You do right by the Celestial people, your people, and your records will be wiped clean.”

I’m about to destroy their home planet, kill their king, and possibly get their beloved prince killed in the process, Gamora thought. Her heart suddenly felt a little heavier in her chest. “That’s very generous of you,” she said, though her voice didn’t sound like her own.

“Remember, if I hear about any sort of illegal activity whatsoever, the deal is off the table,” Nova Prime said firmly, but not unkindly. “Prince Peter seems taken with you, and I trust his judgment. I’d like to be able to trust yours as well. Don’t lose his faith in you, your highness. I think you could be very good for each other, in more ways than you might think.”

Gamora’s breath caught in her throat. “Right, I - I have to take my leave now, Nova Prime. Thank you for your offer, and if you’ll excuse me - ”

“Are you alright, princess?” Nova Prime asked curiously, stepping closer. Gamora only stumbled back, nodding quickly before turning and practically sprinting off, ignoring the voices of Nova Prime and various palace attendants calling after her.

It was only until she had wandered deep into the back of the gardens that she allowed her knees to wobble and give out beneath her, collapsing onto the ground. Her palms dug harshly into the pebbles, droplets of blood beginning to form in the deep indents they created in her hands. Her breath was shallow, hot and ice-cold at the same time, chest heaving as she gasped for air.

Why did you think you could do this? Gamora thought wildly. Her mind was racing, heart pounding against her ribcage as if it were threatening to burst. Did you think you could keep all these secrets straight? You lose your temper. You become attached to people who show you just the slightest bit of kindness. You hide things from people because you think it will save them. You are not the warrior they say you are. Your mind is much too weak for that. You are a child, Gamora. Nothing more than a scared child.

She wasn’t sure when her inner voice had become possessed by Thanos, but it was all she could hear, vibrating violently in her ears, swallowing up all the space in her brain until it was nothing but him. And he was right. How could she possibly overthrow two of the most powerful beings in the entire universe like this, when the slightest of words - and she wasn’t even sure what exactly Nova Prime had said that burned her so badly, but it did, it absolutely ached - could make her fall apart like this?

“Gamora?” She whipped around wildly to see Peter running towards her, dropping down immediately by her side. She winced as he dragged the knees of his pants across the ground. “Nova Prime told me you freaked out and ran off - are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though she was somewhat hunched over like she was about to vomit. The cakes and sandwiches from afternoon tea were starting to go sour in her mouth. “Go back inside.”

“You’re breathing funny.” He pushed her veil away from her face and cupped her jaw with one hand. “C’mon, breathe with me. In...and out. In - ”

“I said go,” she hissed, swatting at him. “Just because you act like a child, it doesn’t mean you get to treat everyone else like one.”

He recoiled, though not enough to let go of her entirely. “Okay. I’m just gonna ignore that ‘cause you’re clearly having issues right now, but also, that really hurt. Uh, but this is about what you need - ”

“What I need,” she said slowly, “is for you to go back inside. I’ll be there soon. Stop overreacting.”

“Overreacting is kinda my thing,” Peter said cheerfully, settling back so he could sit properly. She internally groaned - he clearly wasn’t planning on going anywhere. “What did she say to you? Was it about the deal?”

Gamora sighed in defeat, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Yes. She said it was still available to me, and I just...I felt so helpless, knowing that it won’t ever come to fruition. Knowing that I’ll spend the rest of my days in exile if I’m not killed first.”

Peter hugged his knees to his chest, shrugging. “You don’t know that.”

Her eyebrows shot up in response. “Quill, we’re plotting to kill our fathers,” she whispered. “In what world does that not fall under ‘illegal activity’?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, waving her off with a soft laugh. Gamora was surprised to find herself smiling a little, her breath slowing to a steady pace. Under any other circumstances, she supposed she would have had some biting response where she’d tell Peter off for being so cavalier, but something about his presence was beginning to calm her. “Look, sometimes we’re just gonna go through life not knowing stuff. And I know we won’t know ‘til we get there, so why worry about it now? We’ll deal with it when it happens. And I do mean ‘we’. I’ve got your back, Gamora.”

“Sometimes, I think you’re too naive for all this,” Gamora sighed, gesturing out to the unknown. “But I can appreciate your optimism every now and then, unrealistic as it may be. So...thank you, Quill. And I’ve got your back as well.”

He beamed easily. “So, you ready to head inside?”

She nodded, getting to her feet. She hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. As much as she wanted to tell Peter about what Thanos wanted her to do, and maybe she would tell him after all - he had come to trust her so much in so little time, she felt she had to extend the courtesy - now wasn’t the time, not yet. He looked surprised at the gesture, but accepted her hand, getting to his feet. He looped their arms together before they walked back in comfortable silence, bracing themselves for the exuberant celebration that would seemingly never end. ______

Dinner was another long, tedious affair. Thankfully, it was more akin to afternoon tea than cocktail hour, where Gamora only had to socialize with those directly sitting beside her. Groot declined most of the food due to his special vegetation-only diet, Rocket kept “forgetting” to use utensils in favor of scooping up handfuls with his paws, and Drax and Nebula got into an argument during the fourth course about whether they thought Peter and Gamora’s vows had been romantic (Drax) or nauseating (Nebula). Ego decided not to participate in the Titans’ rather colorful conversation, instead opting to chat with Peter, occasionally talk to Mantis, and send an attendant down the table every so often to pass a message on to someone else. Eventually, he did ask Gamora about her future plans as their new princess, something she had admittedly not been prepared for.

“Tell me about your vision,” Ego said. “What do you imagine for our planet’s future?”

“I wasn’t aware I would be given such...power, your majesty,” Gamora replied decisively. “You’ve never brought it up before.”

“Why, of course you would,” Ego chuckled. “You didn’t think you were just going to spend your time here sitting around and looking pretty, did you? That’s Peter’s job!” She could sense Peter faltering for a moment beside her before continuing to eat as if nothing happened. Her stomach turned, though not in response to the food.

“I suppose not,” she agreed.

“You know, I spoke with your father the other day,” Ego continued. “He had all sorts of questions about how you were doing, and what you would be doing. Now, I don’t know too much about your relationship with him, but for someone of his, to put it delicately - reputation - he seems invested in your well-being.”

“Is that all you spoke about?” Gamora asked, hoping she didn’t look as disgusted as she felt.

“Not exactly,” Ego hummed. “He wanted to know more about the Celestial power source. Everyone always does. I told him the gist of it, but he doesn’t need the details. After all, some secrets are best kept close to the heart.” He patted his chest briefly before picking up his fork again.

Gamora cursed inwardly. Damn. It didn’t seem like he was going to explain further, and she’d been hoping to catch him in the moment, maybe get him to reveal exactly what he’d told Thanos without her having to. Not that it mattered much - Peter had barely looked up from his plate the entire time, too invested in scraping up every last bit of his stew. His whole demeanor had changed ever since Ego’s offhand remark about him. “From what I’ve seen, the Celestials are a much more peaceful people than the Titans,” Gamora said diplomatically. “I can admire peace, of course, but I personally believe that you - that we - cannot continue on like this forever. Your guard seem competent enough, but your civilians seem to lack self-preservation.”

“Interesting.” Ego settled back in his seat. “You think we need to train the common folk as well.”

“Not train, necessarily. Just...prepare them. For worst-case scenarios. A person of your power doesn’t live life without enemies. Your people would suffer the consequences,” she replied. Peter perked up at this.

“Yeah, doesn’t that sound like a good idea, Dad? Especially if we’re trying to put ourselves out there.” He gestured down the length of the table, seats filled with prominent politicians, leaders, and the like from all over the galaxy. “It’ll be great for everyone if they were stronger, more prepared - ”

“But why would they need to be stronger? They have me,” Ego interrupted, folding his arms across his chest. “I protect them, son. And if I were to die - and that’s a big ‘if’ - then this planet will die, anyway, with all of them on it. That’s no secret, but no one’s come after us yet.”

“So you’re saying it’s common knowledge?” Gamora prompted. “Your life’s connection to the Celestial power’s existence, I mean.”

“Well, I don’t go around telling just about anyone, but if they ask, I see no point in lying.” Ego picked up his napkin and began wiping at his mouth, though his gaze was still fixed on her. “Your dad, for example. He wanted to know, so I told him. Didn’t seem moved one way or another. Who would come after me, anyway? I’m more valuable alive than dead.” Peter and Mantis exchanged worried looks across the table.

“Dad, c’mon, don’t say stuff like that,” Peter said uneasily. “Next thing you know, someone’s gonna attack us, starting with you.”

“Are you underestimating me now, son?” Ego chuckled, reaching over to clap Peter heartily on the shoulder. “I said we’re fine. It’s a nice idea, Gamora, but it’s unnecessary. I say, let the people live in ignorance! Preparing for a war that will never come is only going to burden them, sweetheart. You understand, right?”

She swallowed. “Oh, I understand, your majesty. I understand perfectly.”

After dinner was over, the furniture was cleared away, opening up the enormous ballroom to the crowd. The orchestra faded away, the lights dimmed to create a pleasantly romantic atmosphere, and speakers suddenly appeared out of nowhere at the very tops of the pillars spanning the length of the room. Gamora turned to see Peter beside her, hands held high above his head, bursting with white light. Soft music slowly rolled in, filling the room. She took a deep breath in anticipation, knowing what was coming next.

In the heart of the night...in the cool southern rain...there's a full moon in sight...shining down on the Pontchartrain...

“Time for the first dance,” Peter murmured quietly, lowering his arms. “And I wanna talk to you. In private. Well, sort of. More like in front of all these people who can’t actually hear us? Not my greatest plan, but, y’know, we’ll make do.”

“Can’t we just slip away?” she whispered, though she accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her to the middle of the room. Her heart drummed urgently in her throat, though not nearly as painfully as it had a few hours ago in the gardens.

“Uh...sneaking off sounds like we’re gonna go do...something else.” His hands went to her waist in a gentle hold, while she draped hers around the back of his neck, taking the last few steps closer. Their noses were nearly brushing, and she could faintly smell vanilla frosting on his breath.

Her cheeks warmed at the implications. “Right.” She scanned the room over Peter’s shoulder, trying to make out faces in the crowd. Groot was easiest to spot, being one of the tallest creatures there. He waved at her happily. She couldn’t help but smile back briefly before her gaze continued on. Her sister, scowling as always. Drax and Rocket, nodding sharply as they made eye contact. Ego was currently flanked by Yondu and Mantis, who seemed to be having a silent conversation quite literally behind his back. She wondered if there had been more to Mantis’s odd outburst from earlier than first appeared, maybe something Yondu knew about that Peter didn’t. She would have to bring it up to him later on when they weren’t being watched by what felt like everyone in the galaxy.

“So, Thanos knows about Dad,” Peter said quietly. He twirled her out and brought her back in. His arms were steady, but his hands were a little more unsure than they had been the last time they’d done this. The room burst into applause, oblivious. “What the hell does that mean for us?”

“It means Thanos will change his course,” Gamora replied. “He won’t kill your father, or let him kill himself.”

Peter snorted. “As if Dad would ever do that. You know what he’s like.”

“Yes, and I think he’d rather take his own life than beg for it.” Her eyes flickered towards Ego. “His pride wouldn’t let him sink so low.”

And the river she rises...just like she used to do...she's so full of surprises...she reminds me of you...

“If anything, I’m surprised Thanos didn’t bring it up when he talked to you earlier,” Peter continued. “Seems like the kinda thing he’d tell you about if you’re supposed to be plotting to kill Dad.” Gamora’s head dipped very slightly against Peter’s shoulder. It was the tiniest of movements, and yet - “Wait...he did tell you already, didn’t he?”

“Quill - ”

“Right, this again. Y’know, I thought once we were friends, we’d be past all this,” he muttered. He looked more resigned than angry, as if he had come to expect it of her, and somehow, that hurt much more than if he had yelled. “Keeping stuff from each other? Only telling me when it’s convenient for you? And you were just pretendin’ earlier, weren’t you, tryna get Dad to bring it up so you wouldn’t have to tell me yourself. You wouldn’t’ve talked so much otherwise.”

There's a nightbird singing...right on through till the dawn...and the streets are still ringing...with people carrying on...

“I was planning on telling you eventually,” she said defensively.

“Yeah, before or after Thanos gets you to kill me?” He let out a derisive chuckle at her dumbfounded expression. “Gamora, we talked about this on the night we met. He finds out he can’t kill Dad, he comes after me instead, for leverage. I’m not an idiot. I remember stuff, you know.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, I just - ”

“Whatever,” he huffed, schooling his expression back into something more pleasant, if a little vacant. The guests were starting to look worried. “I bet Thanos told you to sneak into my room while I’m sleeping and literally stab me in the back.”

“And I told you, I have no intention of hurting you.”

“Really? Because you’re doing a damn good job of it,” he shot back.

And I trust in your love never falling down...and I trust in your love...just like I do in this town never falling down...

She stared at him, perplexed. Though they had been rather rough during sparring practices, she never left anything more than a couple bruises that healed a few days later. But that wasn’t what he meant, was it - he was his father’s son after all, wasn’t he? His pride, his self-worth - all her talk of his lack of discipline and maturity, the derisive way she referred to his hobbies like they were just childish indulgences - that couldn’t have made him feel good.

“Maybe I’ve been unfair to you,” Gamora agreed. “And maybe this is just an excuse, but I don’t know what you expected of me. You know how I was raised, how I was socialized. Anger became part of my nature, and cruelty became my defense. I’m trying to unlearn everything that I am before it’s too late. So say something instead of acting like a child every time I treat you like one.”

“Y’know, sometimes...sometimes I think I get you.” Peter gave her a wan smile. “And sometimes, I have no clue what’s on your mind.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does,” he retorted. “How are we s’posed to work together if I can’t figure you out?”

“I’m not a puzzle to be solved,” she reminded him, frowning. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a shift in the crowd, significant enough that a few people were stumbling aside like they were being pushed. What the…

“I didn’t mean it like that, I know you’re not - ”

“Quill, look out!”

Peter let out a startled cry of surprise as Gamora dug her nails into his shoulders, twisted him around, and flattened them both to the floor, nearly crushing him with the sudden impact of her own body. He only heard the telltale ri-i-ip of her dress being torn for a split second before it was drowned out by rapid gunfire. It lasted for a brief moment before the room filled with the sounds of hurried footsteps and panicked cries of terror.

“Gamora - are you okay, what was that - ”

“Gamora, catch!”

Peter lifted his head very slightly to watch as Gamora leapt to her feet and snatched her sword out of the air, giving Drax a brief nod of gratitude before turning towards the source of the gunfire - a small group of armed Kree, led by a particularly intimidating one with ice-blue eyes and neural implants wrapped around the back of his skull. Peter slowly got to his feet, keeping himself low as he glanced in the direction of their people. Rocket, Drax, and Nebula were already brandishing their weapons, while Groot appeared to be growing in size, towering over the others even more so than before. Mantis had ducked behind Yondu, who had his yaka arrow floating at his shoulder, teeth gritted, and Ego - well, he was nowhere to be found.

“What do you think you’re doing, Korath?” Gamora demanded, jabbing the point of her sword in the direction of the supposed leader. “And how did you get here?”

“I’m here on behalf of your father,” Korath hissed. “I’m here for him.” He swung his gun towards Peter, whose hands were already outstretched and full of light, though he looked vaguely terrified, unsure of what to do.

“If you knew my father at all, you would know that this isn’t what he wants,” Gamora said slowly, taking measured side steps, doing her best to keep Peter behind her. He hadn’t perfected the use of his Celestial powers for combat by any means, and she only wanted them to be used as a last resort. “So leave, and take your men with you, before anyone else gets hurt.” Peter glanced over his shoulder briefly, horrified to see unmoving bodies and several people crawling desperately towards the doors. Most of the crowd had already dispersed, but a brave few had stayed behind to help the injured.

“This doesn’t concern you, princess,” Korath said tauntingly. He fired a warning shot above the crowd behind them. They shrieked in terror, cowering. Groot sprinted towards them, his branches spiraling out from his arms and shoulders to create a thick, armor-like layer. A couple Kree attempted to fire into him, only for the bullets to bounce off and fall to the floor harmlessly. Groot snarled in response before turning to brace himself over the crowd, allowing them to escape.

“You’re attempting to kill my husband and other innocent people. I’d say that concerns me greatly,” Gamora snapped.

“And what do you care about innocents?” Korath sneered.

“I am not like you, Korath,” Gamora replied, straightening up slightly. “I take no pleasure in this. Not anymore. Or maybe I never did. Either way, you need to leave. Before your life becomes the last one I ever take.”

In lieu of answering, Korath fired at them both with a feral growl. This time, it was Peter who yanked Gamora to the ground, careful to pull her head into his chest before it could hit the floor. Gamora took a moment to briefly rip the veil out of her hair and kick off her shoes before getting back up. She charged at Korath with a warrior’s cry, sword held high above her head. Peter watched in both worry and awe as every single Kree fighter descended on her, surrounding her so tightly he could no longer spot her, aside from the occasional glint of her blade as it swung.

The others ran to Peter’s side for a better vantage point, looking desperately for a way in so they could help Gamora, but there was no way of doing so without pushing her attackers even closer. “What do we do?” Peter exclaimed.

“Guns and knives at this range are only gonna risk hurting her instead,” Rocket said, sounding unusually despondent. “Even one wrong move with Yondu’s arrow, and she’s toast. You gotta do something with that light o’ yours, Quill, and fast.”

“Crapcrapcrap - ” Peter looked around wildly for something he could manipulate - creating material took concentration, concentration that he currently didn’t have - before he heard her shriek in pain. “Gamora!”

She had managed to take out five Kree already, now laid out across the floor like ragdolls, but there was a particularly persistent one who she had speared through the heart - just as he slashed her across the leg in return. Blood oozed from the wound, staining her dress as she grit her teeth in pain. She yanked her sword out of her assailant before stumbling over towards the last two Kree soldiers, who were braced in front of Korath, barrels aimed right at her head. “You are...truly the most idiotic...of Father’s subordinates...if you believe that this...is what he wants,” she panted.

“I never said it was your father."

Gamora hesitated, thrown by the implications, before - “Take that!”

The ceiling crumbled with a mighty cracking sound, showering the three remaining men in a mountain of tile and rubble. It crushed them into the floor, shattering the tiles beneath and near-instantly killing the soldiers. Gamora leaped back, nearly falling on her behind as her leg seared hot with a fresh wave of pain, a cloud of dust whipping into her face and pouring into her lungs. She coughed violently, turning away as her eyes burned with ash.

Everyone ran towards her, including Groot, who had gotten the last of the civilians out of the ballroom. The glow of the Celestial light slowly dimmed as Peter reached for her, slipping an arm around her shoulders for support as she limped, clutching at her ribcage with her free hand. “I can’t believe that worked,” Peter breathed, coughing sharply as well. “I’ve never done that before, holy crap - ”

He was interrupted by a vicious snarl from behind them. They all turned to see Korath, struggling beneath the heavy debris, with only his head fully visible. Gamora moved as if to walk towards him, but Drax held up a hand to stop her. He stalked over to Korath, slow and menacing, before kneeling beside him, looming over the Kree general who now looked more like a hopeless child.

“You have hurt men, women, and children who do not deserve it,” Drax said grievously. “You have caused great pain to the princess, who is both my friend and a greater warrior than you could ever hope to be. Remember this, Kree, as I allow you to have the last breath you will ever take.” Korath could only let out a pathetic wheeze as Drax promptly yanked out his neural implants, tossing them aside like they were nothing. He twitched violently, thrashing against the ground, before crumpling into a still heap.

As if a great burden had been lifted off her shoulders, Gamora collapsed to the floor, letting out a shaky exhale. She wasn’t sure she wanted to turn around and face the dead bodies that she knew were there. Peter sat beside her, reaching to gently cup her face. His other hand went to the constellation pin in her hair, which had gotten loose in battle, sliding it back in place. “You’re okay,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question. “It’s over.”

“I have failed you, princess,” Drax said, shamefaced as he stood. “I did not protect you as I was sworn to do. What is my purpose, if I cannot fulfill such a simple task?”

“Protecting me isn’t simple,” Gamora pointed out, gesturing at the dead Kree soldiers. “Which is why I can only trust people like you, Drax. You haven’t failed me at all.” He smiled, pleased. They fell silent, unsure of what to say next - what could they even say, after what had just transpired - before she spoke again, this time to Peter. “What Korath said...about it not being my father...you don’t think he means - ”

“Son!” Ego was practically springing across the length of the ballroom, his cape sweeping dramatically at his ankles. Nova Prime and her personal guard were following closely behind. “Peter, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Dad, I wasn’t really fighting. Gamora’s hurt, though,” Peter replied, gesturing towards her leg. “Can we get her something?”

Ego called over his shoulder at the guard members hovering by the door. “Don’t just stand there, get the girl some bandages and towels! And call the doctors! Now!” To Peter’s astonishment, Ego then kneeled on the ground beside Gamora, careful to avoid the alarming pool of blood beneath her. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, his eyes twinkling softly. “That was a real show you put on there, sweetheart. You’re braver than any soldier I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you...your majesty,” she said. Her breath was coming in short, her brain a little fuzzier than usual. She could hardly find the energy to feel insulted. “But this was all my fault. If I wasn’t here - ”

“The people out there, they’re scared outta their minds,” Ego interrupted. “But what you just did - you’re their hero, Gamora. You saved Peter. You saved everyone.”

“Not everyone,” Gamora corrected quietly, looking over at the dead bodies for the first time. It was a sight she never wanted to get used to.

“They’re singing your praises, believe it or not,” Nova Prime said with a wry chuckle. “Don’t underestimate what you’ve done here tonight, your highness. Think of what would have happened if your husband was killed. You’ve stopped a war.”

Gamora looked around, uncertain. To her amazement, they all looked genuinely proud of her - even Nebula was half-smiling in her Nebula-ish way - and Peter’s eyes were glowing with something she couldn’t identify. He moved in closer, pulling her somewhat into his chest so she could lean against him as her balance became increasingly unsteady. Ego got to his feet, striding away with Nova Prime as they began discussing damage control, and the others took a few steps back to give them space. Peter lowered his forehead against hers, and it felt infinitely more intimate than their brief kiss from earlier.

“Thank you,” Peter murmured. “You were freaking badass. And I guess that’s one way to start off a marriage, am I right?” Gamora laughed, the pain in her leg subsiding for the time being as she tucked into the crook of his neck, warm.

“Well, I was kind of hoping the wedding would be over already. Should be careful what I wish for.”

a/n: hey, all! sorry for the long chapter...again. i keep telling myself to keep them shorter so you don't get bored but then i decided to introduce like five new (and important!) plot points in this one, oops. hope you enjoyed it anyways! for now, let's just assume i'll be updating once a month, possibly sooner for the next one since it won't be as plot-heavy, so expect chapter five to come sometime in the first two weeks of march.

i based the description of gamora's dress off this one, but with this color palette. songs in this chapter are: lido shuffle by boz scaggs and heart of the night by poco. also imagine that king and queen of hearts by david pomeranz was playing at some point - before the reception, maybe? - as i wanted to get that in there but the word count was already getting to be too much, haha

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