Ronan the Accuser / Reader - Part 2
A cold, hard floor made of tiles against your cheek. Distant noises getting louder as well as closer as you regained consciousness. You opened you eyes and found yourself laying on the bathroom floor, right between your laundry machine and the shower. It took a couple of minutes more to gain full control of your body due to the uncomfortable position you had been laying in, since as a result of this your every limb was now either aching or completely numb. Finally you managed to push yourself up, first on your knees and then on your feet, to stand in the middle of your bathroom. You walked out, hoping that you had been merely dreaming, yeah, perhaps you had slipped in the shower and imagined it all, but when you walked into your living room, you saw the blue man sitting on your sofa and eating… something.
The man had taken off his armor and was now wearing just your blanket that was wrapped around his hips. He had clearly gone through your closets, according to the piles of clothes on the floor, and ripped a bed sheet into bandages. Your dining table was filled with dirty plates and opened containers, trash as well as half-finished meals. You did your best to hide your feelings and the utter shock that had taken over your mind; you were shocked to see the chaos… and you were shocked to realize that you had not been dreaming. What a disappointment – it was real!
- How long was I out? you asked and stretched your arms as well as your back to ease the aching a little.
- Nearly one day. the man replied, not bothering to stand up. It was like he had taken over your apartment during these passed twenty-something hours.
- One day! you exclaimed and continued by asking “Are you serious?”
- Yes. the man replied and gave you an annoyed look.
- Why was I on the floor? you asked with a confused tone. The man tilted his head and began firmly “Where else you expec-“ but you cut him off by asking “Why didn’t you lift me to the bed or something?” However your question sounded more like an accusation than a question. Your tone was not appreciated by the stranger and therefore he glared at you with an offended expression decorating his face. His eyes were wide open and chin slightly raised which made him look arrogant and furious.
- You are a slave! he exclaimed angrily. “Do you really expect me to touch a disgusting slave?” he scoffed. Sure, he had taken slave girls without their consent and enjoyed the ultimate domination over them, but it was truly unthinkable that you suggested he should have collected you from the floor and carried you to the bed.
- I am not a slave! you exclaimed. You felt your strength returning and for some reason you felt a bit more confident now, compared to what you had felt before. It was almost as if there had been new kind of life force in you, running in your veins and making you feel less frail and weak. “As far as I know, you are keeping me as a hostage” you stated and then continued firmly “You’re blackmailing me.” The man noticed this change in your attitude and stood up. It was obvious that he was badly hurt because moving was challenging for him, especially getting up from the sitting position, particularly from your sofa that was quite soft, very comfortable. “You threatened to kill me so I had no other choice than to help you!” you snapped and folded your arms as a sign of defiance.
- Blackmailing? the man scoffed and took a step at you. “Blackmailing, no” he spoke with an assertive, low voice. “Threatening, also no” he continued and after a brief pause, added “I am just letting you know what you position is.”
- And what is it? you asked and stood your ground even though the mere presence of the stranger was enough to make your stress levels go up. Therefore this, the man standing up and taking steps towards you, was not welcomed at all, especially because your apartment was quite small and therefore you had nowhere to run. The only room that had a lock in the door was the bathroom and you had no desire to spend any time more there. One nearly-day was enough! You took few step and managed to position yourself behind a coffee table which created a false-sense of security given by the barrier between you and the tall, blue man. The feeling of security was false because deep down you knew that if the dangerous outlaw wanted to get to you, he most likely was able to jump or even reach over the coffee table.
- I could snap your neck with my fingers. the man stated. “Just like that” he added and continued with a threatening, cold tone “I’ve killed many and felt nothing. Killing you however…” he said and smirked which made him look even more sinister and made you swallow in terror silently. “… I might even enjoy” he stated and tilted his head. You were pretty sure that he was imagining all the ways he could do it as he stared you with that smug expression on his face.
At this point you decided not to comment. You knew he was right; you had seen him raise that massive war-hammer with his one hand like it had weighed nothing while you had struggled to even move it… besides your neck was very delicate. You shifted your gaze elsewhere while you clenched your hands into fists. You were scared for your life as well as deeply confused about everything and this, digging your nails into the soft skin of your palms, helped you a little to shift your mind away from the mental chaos to the physical pain. It helped you to keep your mind sharp. Fight or flee, right? No, not really. You knew that you didn’t stand a chance if you tried either of those options.
- Why does it feel like I had… died? you asked after a long silence.
- Because you did. the man replied, his tone neutral but clearly on the indifferent, cold side.
- So you did kill me already? you mumbled and chuckled bitterly. “Am I a ghost now?” you asked and swallowed to keep your emotions in check; the thought of dying so young and being already dead made your entire being, every cell in your body mind included fill with sorrow and grief but you had to make sure that you would never… NEVER… show such weakness to the man.
- Kree. the man stated, keeping his purple eyes fixed upon you all the time.
- Kree? you repeated with a tone that was somewhat neutral but carried an undertone of confusion.
- Yes, you have turned into a Kree. the man stated bluntly and sharpened his gaze as he monitored and scanned your expressions.
- What… is a Kree? you asked cautiously.
- You ask too many questions! the man exclaimed, his tone making it very clear that he was getting tired of this conversation. It was also plain obvious that the man considered himself more important than you, that he was ranking higher than you, well, he insisted on calling you his slave so it wasn’t really that surprising, However, the point was that he had not gotten used to being the one answering the questions since he usually was the one asking them, not the other way around.
- Right, I forgot, I am nothing but a lowly, pathetic human slave. you mumbled sarcastically and smirked defiantly.
- Slave yes, human no. Not anymore. the man stated.
- Bullshit! you exclaimed. The man glared at you and took few long strides to get around the coffee table, ending up to stand right in front of you. He reached to grab a small knife from the coffee table and grabbed your arm. He forced you to keep your hand open while he made a small cut on your palm with the knife. You gasped from pain and asked “Why did you do that?” The man scoffed and rolled his eyes; he couldn’t quite believe why you were overreacting so. It was just a small cut and you were being a pathetic baby! Your palm was instantly stained by blue liquid that looked like paint to you, giving you a vivid flashback of yesterday when you had been pulling the metal bar out.
- See? the man said and let go of your hand. “Your blood is now blue like mine” he stated and stared at you while your eyes were glued to the blue liquid dripping out from the cut. You didn’t understand why your blood was like that now! It wasn’t right! The man scoffed at your incapability to take any action, put the knife back to the coffee table and reached out to grab a piece of ripped bed sheet to tie your bleeding hand with. He grabbed your hand again, placed a piece folded fabric on your palm and then wrapped it swiftly with the sheet-slice, made a knot and gestured you to close your hand and apply pressure on the wound. He was surprisingly gentle while did this. You recoiled from your thought and shifted your gaze from your hand to him.
- Your inferior human blood was replaced by my superior Kree blood. the man said and corrected himself by stating “Or not replaced but… it changed.” A barely audible “Oh” escaped your lips as you stared at the man. “And the human died, Kree was born” he stated, clearly proud of his own background. The word “Kree” made the man’s eyes light up and it was apparent that there had been a time when he had not been a lowly outlaw but something else entirely, perhaps a respected member of the society… or a high commander of the Kree army.
- Why? you asked with a shaky tone.
- Did I not tell you not to ask questions! the man stated firmly, clearly annoyed and bothered, looking down on you.
- I have a right to ask them! you snapped. “If you do not like it… tough shit.” you mumbled, rolled your eyes and scoffed. The cut was hurting so you walked past the man to your drawer where you kept your painkillers. You took one from a small container, got a water bottle from the fridge and washed the pill down with one long gulp. The man followed your actions silently, trying to decide whether you were a potential threat or not. When you had walked into your kitchen, he had grabbed his knife again, just to be ready if your plan was to find a weapon but when you had just taken a bottle from the cold closet, the fridge, he put had put the knife instantly back to the table. “For example, you haven’t told me who you are. I think I deserve to know” you spoke after emptying the bottle entirely.
- I am Ronan the Accuser. the man said and added “Warlord and commander.”
- And an outlaw? you blurted, filled the bottle with water and put it back into the fridge.
- They call me terrorist, radical, zealot because I obey the ancient laws of my people, the Kree... he spoke solemnly and paused. You kept staring at him and waiting for the man, Ronan, to continue. “…And punish those who do not” he stated eventually. You did not exactly know who “they” were so you assumed that he meant those who were after him.
- I see. you commented almost casually. “Have you ever considered the fact that the world has changed from the ancient times?” you asked, your tone slightly sarcastic, like it had been meant to ridicule the tall blue man. “Perhaps therefore the ancient laws must be updated too” you commented and folded your arms as you leaned to the kitchen counter.
- No! Ronan hissed angrily. “My enemies have killed my father, and his father, and his father before him” he spoke, took a deep breath and continued. “A mighty war of thousand years” he said with a low, rumbling tone and added somewhat bitterly “Then my own people betrayed me by making peace with the Xandorians.”
- Who are they? you asked cautiously. You knew that there were aliens but you didn’t exactly know their races or anything so therefore there was no point in discussing intergalactic politics and universal affairs with you without first explaining who everybody were.
- They and their culture are a disease. Ronan stated, sounding deeply disgusted. “I only wanted to cure it” he added.
- Cure it? you asked although the truth was that you had a feeling that he meant wiping out the entire race.
- I only did what was necessary… and righteous by the ancient laws of my people. he stated, not very appreciative of your expression of shock, although you tried to keep your feelings to yourself. In Ronan’s opinion his actions and hunger for revenge had been, and still was, justified and therefore a slave like you had no right to question his actions… yet it was obvious that you did, even though you did not say it aloud.
- I have a feeling that I don’t want to hear any more. you commented. Ronan groaned and began
- My mission, my right as the Supreme Accuser of the Kree Empire-
- I don’t care! you snapped and raised your hand on your forehead. Your head was now aching and the painkiller had not helped yet.
- Silence, slave! Ronan snapped in return. You rolled your eyes and returned to the fridge. You had only paid attention to the water bottle before, ignoring anything else and now that you opened the door you noticed that your fridge was nearly empty. There was only a bottle of ketchup, butter and a jar half-full of black olives.
- Great, you have emptied my fridge. you commented. “I had stored food for the entire week but… you…” you continued, sighed and added “…Ate it all in one day, really?” You closed the door of the fridge and leaned your head against it. “No, don’t answer that” you said before Ronan had a chance to comment. You were hungry, so hungry due to the fact that it had been over a day since you had eaten… and now your fridge was empty and the bastard who had emptied it was not even sorry about it. You cursed silently that you had to go to the shop while the wind and the rain had changed into a storm, but then suddenly you remembered something. You opened the door of your freezer instead and pulled a drawer out.
- Ha-haa! you exclaimed victoriously. “I see you did not find my stash of frozen pizzas!” you continued and mumbled with an inaudible tone “Sucker.”
You fried the pizza and when you were about to retire to your bedroom, you were instantly informed that the slaves did not sleep in the bed. Yes, Ronan had taken over your bed and you had to sleep on the sofa to avoid any conflicts. You had no energy for further disagreements and frankly, you did not want to get killed. You slept poorly, had nightmares and the next morning left for work before Ronan had woken up. You went to the store, bought a massive amount of groceries again and cooked dinner while the blue, tall Accuser just rested in your bed and waited his injury to heal.
You decided to buy some clothes to him because you didn’t want him to use your blankets as his loincloth, although you had to admit that his physique was perfect and he looked like a slightly more muscled Greek statue. He had broad shoulders and strong body, muscled arms and legs, large hands and long fingers, firm wide chest and brawny back. He was a very handsome man, especially after you had finally managed to convince him to take a shower and to wash the black pain off his face and teeth. His voice was deep and he always sounded like he was in full control, however unfortunately he only fired insults at you but it did not stop you from imagining what he would sound like when he talked to someone he cared for… if there ever had been someone that close to him. Anyway, it was no surprise that as the days passed you noticed that you were developing a small crush with him, or perhaps it was just the Stockholm syndrome kicking in.
You and Ronan sometimes went out for walks after sunset and he always wore a hooded shirt that casted a shadow over his face to hide the uncommon color of his skin. There were few times when the streetlights hit his face from the right angle resulting random people noticing the abnormal tone of Ronan’s skin, so whenever anyone asked anything about it you just mumbled something about a rare skin condition before Ronan managed to educate the stupid, ignorant humans about his superior background.
Ronan still called you his slave and occasionally threatened verbally to kill you if you did not obey his commands but for your pleasant surprise he never carried out these threats or threatened you physically, not even when you had not exactly done as he had demanded you to. You were relieved that he had restrained himself with you and you were even more thankful that he had not been violent towards you. At first Ronan had refrained himself from violence just because he simply needed your help with healing and surviving but even now when he was fully healed, he still behaved in a nearly courteous way towards you. Well, he was still rude and arrogant by any normal standards, but taking into consideration that he considered you his slave, his behavior was… tolerable.
It had been two and half months since the crash and your life with Ronan had turned into routines that were repeated from day to day. You went to work, paid the bills, slept on the sofa and made sure that Ronan had his daily meals ready. You had taught him to use modern appliances so you could rest assured that he wouldn’t burn the place down while you were at work. Your mind had been so focused on surviving, living one moment at a time, always on alert like you had been walking on a tightrope without any safety net below you, so as a result you had been distracted from your personal hardships. However now your life was returning back to normal, yeah, the new twisted way of normal, and therefore you had once more time to ponder around the things that troubled you.
Just before Ronan had crashed into your life you had faced heartbreak and stress beyond measure and capability of tolerating. The drama concerning your close relationships had grown and grown during the past year while the work stress had build up too, finally exploding at your face the day before you had encountered Ronan. You had been still in shock from the events when you had saved the Accuser’s life and therefore you had not managed to process any of this personal shit. Oh no, you had been forced to block your mind from any distractions due to the necessity to stay on top of things in order to survive.
You had not allowed yourself to break down even once even though you had been on the verge of bursting into tears countless times during these past ten weeks. You had just pressed your nails against your palms and soldiered on. On top of that you had been scared, especially in the beginning. Then the worst feeling of crippling fear had faded away since it had gotten somewhat obvious in few weeks that Ronan was not going to kill you even though he was occasionally, repeatedly threatening to do so. However it was exhausting to be yelled at, to be mocked and disrespected by him, especially when there was no place for you to hide from him.
Ronan the Accuser was always there, watching you, evaluating you and the threat you posed towards him. He was constantly scanning your expressions and plotting his next move. “Like mighty warlords usually do”, you reasoned. Yeah, “reasoned”! It meant that you were really losing it since there was no reason in this! It was… insane and it made no sense! You were happy for the routines and the fragile balance you had managed to achieve to keep the peace between you and the Supreme Accuser but then again you had so conflicted feelings about just settling into this and allowing it to become the new normal. Yeah, why were you readjusting yourself to it? Why weren’t you plotting against the man who had taken over your home and held you as a hostage? Why weren’t you fighting or at least calling for help? Why were you so paralyzed? You could have tried to contact the Avengers when you were at work… but… you had not and it, your incapability to take any actually-reasonable-action was driving you insane.
Besides, you were not sleeping well on the sofa and at your work you had to pretend that nothing was wrong… and this entire situation was just draining you and sucking joy out from your life. Anyway this balance between you and Ronan had then made room for the ignored personal shit to creep back into your conscious mind. It had been just a single, random thought at first, a simple and easily ignorable whisper asking “Hey, remember me?” which had then started to grow in silence until it was a constant scream demanding for your attention.
Now on this particular Friday you had had a long, stressful day at work followed by a shopping-tour at the overcrowded supermarket and missing your bus because you had stopped to admire the stars for just a moment. The next bus was coming in thirty minutes and even though you knew that you would have walked home easily in that time, you didn’t want to carry two large bags of food for the weekend. Therefore you sat down on a bench to wait while staring at the building on the opposite side of the street with a blank look on your face. You recoiled just in time, gestured the bus to stop and lifted your bags from the ground. You took a ride to the nearest bus stop and after a short walk you were home.
You went in, took off your coat and shoes and carried the bags into the kitchen, while trying to avoid the random things Ronan had left laying around during the day. Sure, it was great that he did pushups and other exercises during your workday and it was even greater that he was interested in your culture, but he never bothered put anything back to its place; books, movies, remote controls… or when he accidentally broke something, he never cleaned the mess because in his opinion it was not his duty… but yours… because you were the slave… and there was no strength in you left to constantly resist that statement like you had done in the beginning.
Ronan had been resting in your bedroom, as usual, and now came to see what you had bought from the store, as usual. He neither greeted nor helped you, but just stood behind you and stared you in silence. You turned on the oven in order to preheat it to two hundred degrees Celsius, started unpacking the bags and sniffled few times as you loaded the groceries into the fridge. After you were done, you took a large frozen pizza out from the freezer, opened the package and put it on the oven tray. You knew that Ronan would ask any moment now if the dinner was ready soon, one of these routines you had gotten so used to, but this time you were so totally done with his shit. You had heard the man’s steps few moments ago and therefore you were well aware of the fact that he was standing behind you, just silently waiting for you to turn to face him.
- Where have you been? he asked with a tone that did not give any clues about his current mood. You sighed and checked the time; yes, it was much later than usual. You had been working overtime, spent more time shopping due to the long queues and then missed the buss as the cherry on the top. Actually you had assumed that you had sat on the bench for thirty minutes but now you realized that you had in fact sat there for an hour and half: you had missed the first buss, missed the second as well and caught the third one just in time. However you did not feel like explaining yourself to Ronan so you just stayed silent and ignored the question completely. It however did not mean that the tall, blue Kree would just let it go so easily.
- I asked you, where have you been? Ronan repeated the question, clearly getting irritated by your unwillingness to even look at him. The truth was that you were mentally exhausted and on the verge of bursting into tears and it was getting increasingly difficult by every passing second to keep your emotions in check. “Answer me!” he demanded loudly. You dropped your head and chuckled bitterly; you were too tired for this shit since your day had been challenging enough as it was and therefore you did not need Ronan the Accuser to demand for answers and to call you a slave like he surely would sooner or later – he always did.
- Pathetic slave. you mumbled to yourself. This time Ronan did not comment. “Don’t worry, your dinner will be ready in thirty minutes” you said and put the frozen pizza into the oven even though the oven was not as hot as it was supposed to be, however it would be soon enough. You pulled a kitchen drawer open and took a large kitchen knife out from it, placed it on a cutting board and stared at the blade as it lay on the wooden surface.
- I demand to know where you have been this entire evening. the man stated and this statement made you laugh bitterly… and then your laughter turned into helpless sobbing. You cried violently, sometimes unable to catch your breath and ending up catching your breath like you had been a fish out of water while Ronan did nothing but stared at your back. Then you forced yourself to stop, pressing your nails against your palms as hard as you could and wiped your cheeks before turning around. However before turning you grabbed the knife and hid it behind your leg as you let your arms just hang on your sides. This was the very first time Ronan saw you like this, broken and… done, your eyes filled with sorrow and darkness. The look on his face changed and he looked… concerned and confused. Not much but… a little, like he didn’t quite know what to do. He swallowed once and began with a surprisingly kind tone
- I was worried for yo-
- No. you said and shook your head. The rejection seemed to hit Ronan like a weapon, it seemed to hurt him too. “You do not get to worry for me” you spoke with an exhausted, heartbreaking tone. The truth was that you had not expected to hear those words, not from Ronan. Hell, you had not known that the word “worried” would be even part of his vocabulary… especially if the context was being “worried for someone”… which it even wasn’t! No, the context was not a “random someone” but… “you”.
- But I… Ronan said but stopped talking instantly when you gestured him to shut up.
- Why? you whimpered and tilted your head as you kept your gaze fixed on directly into the man’s purple eyes. “I get it, you are tough and dangerous” you mumbled, not really making any sense to Ronan. “You’re so full of rage that it crushes me and I cannot breathe” you whimpered and once more you looked like you were going to burst into tears any moment now. Ronan did not know how to react or what to say.
- You’re strong. you stated and then added bitterly “But you could also be kind.” Ronan shifted his gaze away from you for a moment and back to you when you stated “You could have made this so much easier. You could have made my life so much easier.”
- What are you talking about? Ronan asked and noticed the knife that you were trying to keep hidden. He knew that there was no way you would be able to hurt him but perhaps you were planning something else entirely and the thought terrified him. You broke eye contact with the tall man and the look on your face turned blank.
- You always tell me that you’ll kill me, but you didn’t kill me… but in a way, you did. you mumbled, sniffled once and gasped. “But you did” you repeated, still staring into the space between you and him while feeling the handle of the knife with your hand. Ronan, still keeping his distance, reached his hand towards you and just as he was about to ask you to hand him the knife, you suddenly recoiled from your thoughts and stated while looking directly into Ronan’s eyes “So finish me off, snap my neck like you said you would!”
You raised the knife, screamed and plunged into an attack…