“I told you he’d come through,” Gamora reassured Peter as they weaved through the bustling market.
“Flying us to this planet, throwing a hundred units at us and saying, ‘buy yourself something nice’ is not coming through!” He exclaimed as he stepped out of the way of a large tradeswoman hocking her wares. All around them spicy and sweet aromas drifted on the chill breeze. A thousand lights twinkled from the buildings, and mingled in the air with the flakes of bright blue snow.
“He’s trying,” Gamora replied, “well as much as he can.” Peter shook his head but grinned as they mingled with the crowd.
“Hot cakes! Get your hot cakes here!” A large blue and pink alien shouted, Gamora breathed in the cinnamon like scent and navigated through the crowed.
“It’s not in the spirit of Christmas, two hot cakes please,” Peter ordered and paid the creature, digging the handful of units out of his pocket. Gamora accepted with thanks and bit into it, watching the gleaming lights dazzle on the stand of the market stall. This shop keep had evidently chosen quality of cake over quality of lights. Still, they fascinated her with their dull white gleaming. On off, on off, on off. “Christmas, or really any holidays…” Peter explained “there are lots of them. I just always celebrated Christmas but some people celebrate Hanukkah, others celebrate Kwanza.” Gamora listened to Peter recount each of these other Terran customs in turn. She had never celebrated anything.
“Hanukkah is a festival of lights,” Peter took another large bite of his hot cake as they turned down another weaving lane filled with market stalls on either side.
“A festival of lights like this one?” Gamora asked, looking overhead at dancing lights. These were brilliant hues of red, green, scarlet, aqua and opal. They turned and twisted, some bumping in to each other and spiraling off into tiny dazzling lights of yellow. Other expanded and burst out their colors.
“Yeah,” he nodded, eyeing a stall that was filled with brand new Nova knock-off rifles.
“Come on, Rocket did you that many units.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away. “Tell me more about this Terran festival of lights.” Peter pouted, were they alone, she’d kiss that silly face. But your not alone, her intuition told her. Hundreds of people around, some of which could be after you. One of Thanos’s goons. Gamora shoved the thoughts aside, reassuring herself. She still had her sword at her belt. Just in case. Why could she just let herself enjoy the festivities? Why couldn’t she just kiss Peter in public like a normal person who was in love?
“Well you see there was this group of people…” Peter walked forward, stepping around the temper tantrum of a young Ksli’n and it’s desperate parents. Over the creatures wailing he tried to continue. “…they were in the desert because they were escaping this really bad dude who made them slaves. But the desert was really big and it got really cold at night.” Gamora nodded, intrigued. To her left she spotted more dazzling lights, these one’s purple. She pointed, grabbing Peter’s hand and rushing over. The purple lights came to meet them as they approached the stall, they spun around her, moving through her hair, under her arms and around her waist. One of the lights landed playfully atop Peter’s head, Gamora giggled despite herself, ruffling his hair until she teased the light out of it. It drifted over to her nose and glowed.
“Like em?” She turned, the merchant was a yellow colored alien it’s ten eyes inquisitively assessing her from top to bottom. On instinct Gamora gripped the hilt of her sword, only to relent as Peter placed his warm hand on hers. She jerked it away, the shame rising in her as she did so.
“10,000 units a bundle.” The alien admonished.
“That’s alright, thank you.” Gamora hurriedly responded and turned away, ignoring the sellers nasty comment.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered once her and Peter found their way back into the thick of the crowd. He touched her shoulder gently and then pulled away but still walked beside her close enough for their shoulder’s to touch.
“I told you Gams, you don’t have to be sorry.”
“Thank you Peter.” With effort, she forced herself to link her pinky into his as they walked along. Don’t let your guard down! Her mind screamed. “See that woman over there? The one in the white cloak? She could be after you. She’s lurking. Did you kill her family? No! Gamora yelled internally, tightening her pinky grip as much as she could.
“So these people, they were stuck in the desert with no light?” She asked, still curious.
“Well they only had enough oil to burn for one more night. Oil is how people in the old days made lights.”
“They didn’t use Quarenren crystal?” She asked, they turned down another alley this one selling primarily clothing but these stalls too boasted their own collection of lights. Each more elaborate then the next.
“No,” he laughed. “They just had oil. So, they only had enough to last for one night. But somehow when they burned it, the oil lasted for eight days and eight nights. So now every year their descendants celebrate the miracle.” Gamora nodded, trying to understand.
“It’s a celebration of joy and hope.” Peter said, his eyes going wide at the unique quantum lights of a dress selling stall. Pinkies wound, they continued on their way. Now that the sky had gotten even darker the lights shone even more spectacularly. “A time to celebrate family and love and getting through difficult time, having faith.”
“I like that,” she whispered. She’d never been raised to have faith in anything but Thanos and in herself. But that wasn’t true anymore she thought as she looked at Peter the lights spiraling and alighting in his eyes. She had faith in him, in them, in the motley crew family they’d scrounged up. She had faith in this, this warm glowing light feeling in her chest. Kiss him, her heart whispered, but though she leaned in closer to him as they walked she could not bring herself to do so. Peter only smiled as they walked, tickling the palm of her hand with his pinky. She laughed. All of a sudden, she halted in the street. In the sky above fire-works exploded, colors sprung in all directions echoed by the ‘oooh and aahs’ of the crowed. Bathing the market in swaths of colors Gamora planted her feet next to Peter, watching as three more rockets shot up to the sky and went off. After five more fire-works went off, Gamora breathed a sigh of contentment. No more bad thoughts came to her mind, not standing here with Peter. She breathed deeply, watching the fireworks go off, bursts of white, splashes of pink, shimmering yellow. Slowly Gamora wound the rest of her fingers into Peter’s hand, he clasped it gently soft and warm. She could feel the calluses where he held his gun and the softness of his middle palm.
“These holidays are very nice,” she said, smiling in full as another round of spectacular lights danced across the sky.
“Yeah, they are,” he breathed. She could feel his gaze on her. Loving and gentle and full. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. The lights lit the skies, the streets and shined no more brilliantly then in her heart.