Xandar Part 2
Chapter 10 – Xandar Part 2
When Peter finally came back to the pond in his dreams, Ronan was there, waiting for him. They had a lot to discuss before they actually got to planning this little venture. His Terran was vapid and easily distracted. It wasn’t a good combination, but he would need to get through to him one way or another. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter if he had a body of his own or not.
“Hey I wanted to-
“No, you will listen this time, since you clearly didn’t before.” Ronan interrupted. “I did not disappear on you during our conversation about our respective parents. You did.”
“What?” Peter shook his head. “You literally disappeared. One moment you were in front of me, the next you were gone!”
Doing his best not to let his temper get the best of him, Ronan took a deep breath. “Peter Quill, you cut me off! You were so upset about the imagined pain you caused, that you cut yourself off from me and then imagined I was the one throwing a tantrum.”
Peter blinked, and he knew his Terran didn’t believe him. “You left when I called you a jerk!”
“No, you closed the pathways, much like I had done prior to our talk when I was trying to prevent you from being effected by any emotional bleed.” Ronan corrected as patiently as he could. “I watched you build the flower, I listened to you and Drax. You even opened the pathways up briefly when that fool claimed to know all there is to know about my species.”
“Wait, I can shut you out?” Peter gasped.
“Yes.” Ronan answered. “You keep forgetting that it is your inherited abilities that have made this telepathic bond so much more powerful and unique than those of other soulmates.”
“Yeah, but Drax makes it sound like he and Gamora can do some of it, too.” Peter frowned.
“They have emotional empathy. Most soulmates do. Even if you were fully Terran, you and I would be able to feel each other’s emotions, especially the more powerful ones.” Ronan explained.
“Oh.” Peter put his hand on his hips and then smiled softly. “Whoops.”
Ronan growled as he gritted his teeth irritably. “Whoops?” He came forward but clenched his fists instead. This could not be their main focus. He understood why he was here, why Tivan had insisted they’d need him to help find whatever was left of his physical form. He could feel something, something familiar and it was beckoning him.
“So uh, what’d you think of it?” Peter muttered nervously.
Ronan frowned and tilted his head as he tried to understand what he was asking him. At once he recalled the flower and he felt his own irritation melt away at the kind gesture. “It was well crafted and accurate. The very image that I presented you back on Knowhere.”
Peter beamed, and Ronan couldn’t help but allow his Terran to feel the bit of pride he had in his bonded’s abilities. He was probably spoiling his Terran, especially since he wasn’t ready to assign Peter to any particular role, but when the man smiled it was difficult not to allow its warmth to settle his cold, angry spirit.
“I don’t know if you meant to or not, but umm, thanks for letting Drax hug me.” Peter blushed at him. “I mean, you did allow it right?”
“If you are implying that I could have over-ridden your closed pathways and forced him back from you, then you would be correct.” He couldn’t help but smirk. “You seemed in need of comfort and I was incapable of offering it.”
It had irritated him far more than it should have. The only thing that had kept him from attacking Drax was Peter’s earlier confession that he needed some kind of physical contact from his family. Besides, Drax was spoken for and was not someone that Peter had ever lusted after. Not like Gamora.
“I will not make an exception for Gamora.” He warned.
“Dude, eventually you have to get over it. She can touch me if she wants. Besides, it’s not like,” Peter stopped speaking when Ronan invaded his space in the dream, nearly pressing their chests together with a static pop as he looked down into his wide green eyes. The man blinked and then regrouped, emerald eyes narrowing. “No! You don’t get to keep isolating me from everyone! Until you figure out what role you want me to play and I figure out what role I want you in, I’m gonna do what I did before I released you from the stone!”
“And if I continue preventing it?” Ronan growled, both surprised by the push-back and intrigued.
“Then I guess I’m just gonna have to figure out how to block you better, aren’t I?” Peter shivered.
Ronan couldn’t help but smile wider at the sight. There was challenge in the young Terran’s eyes and that fire called to the warrior within Ronan. He had to admit that this being, had he been more formally trained, would have made a perfect nemesis. Peter Quill was smart and resourceful, he was a moderately skilled combatant and he was sturdy. Those were traits that any nemesis needed.
When he first met him, first laid eyes on him, he’d been sure that the Terran was meant to be his nemesis. After all, Peter Quill embodied several things Ronan despised in the Xandarians and other lesser beings. His tongue was biting and immature. He never looked before he leaped. Peter was a slob and a sleaze. He appeared to have absolutely no honor or morals. At the time, he felt the Terran would either rise to be his Nemesis or fall to the level of servant.
Spending time in his head, feeling his emotions however, things turned out to be much different. Those characteristics he’d been so sure he hated, had begun to grow on him. Peter was also loyal and eager to please. For any that the young man considered friend or family, he’d gladly sacrifice anything he had to give, even if it meant his life.
“It would be wise.” Ronan stated, his voice dropping low as he considered touching Peter as he had in the Terran’s previous dream.
A slow smile finally came across Peter’s face and Ronan felt a childish urge to run away. He couldn’t allow himself to get so attached to Peter. Their goals might be similar for a time, but eventually that would change. Peter could not accept Ronan anymore than Ronan could accept Peter.
“So how do we do this?” Peter asked.
Shaken from thoughts that were beginning to fall on the melancholy side of things, Ronan felt a sadistic thrill run through him. “How do you think?”
“Oh, come on! There has to be another way.” Peter frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you really need to be the one in control?”
“As I am the one who can feel what we are looking for and because you have yet to learn how to navigate what I feel, it only makes sense that I take control.” Ronan grinned.
Peter rolled his darkened green eyes and huffed as he offered Ronan his hand. “Fine.”
Drax frowned when Peter came out of the room. His stance was rigid, his mouth set into a frown and his eyes looking all around them. His green eyes took in every door, window and the space all around them. Having done similar checks himself, Drax knew that that the Kree warrior now had control of Peter’s body. The Terran leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy had never been so obvious in his appraisal of a room’s security.
He wondered if Ronan knew that about Peter. That despite how stupid and unaware the human seemed, he was actually very observant and often hid such tendencies behind false acts of senselessness or silliness. Shaking off the thought, he approached the Kree in Terran clothing.
“I will follow your lead whenever you are ready to begin.” Even if the words sounded submissive, Drax was very careful to make his tone of voice seem strong and independent. This was being done for Peter and not for Ronan. His following him was out of respect for one but not the other.
The green eyes narrowed just so, and he realized Ronan was uncomfortable tilting his head upward to make eye contact. The thought nearly made Drax laugh aloud. It would be uncomfortable for the arrogant Kree to have to be the smaller and shorter of the two. For Drax, it was quite a luxury he planned to enjoy while he could, which he did at the moment by standing straighter.
“The sooner Peter has created my body, the better.” Ronan snarled as Peter’s body marched for the front door of their suite.
It didn’t take long for them to find their way to the street. Peter’s brow was beaded with sweat and his face was in what he hoped wasn’t a permanent scowl. His hands were resting near both of his guns that were fastened to his thighs. He was watching every single being that passed them, sneering when pink Xandarians walked by.
“Peter, focus.” He snapped. The man growled at him but Drax didn’t back down. “Peter, if he will not act in either of your best interest, then you must take over.”
That seemed to do the trick. While Ronan was still clearly in control of the body, for he walked far too gracefully, he lost the pout and appeared much calmer. They moved side by side through the crowds, Drax keeping an eye out for any dangers. With the day being such a bright, sunny day, there were a lot of Xandarians out and about.
They moved deeper into the city center with Drax starting to wonder if they were headed back to Nova Prime’s vault. What better place to lock up and hide pieces of a supposedly dead Kree fanatic? Then again, if the Nova Corp really had bits of Ronan’s body they likely would have incinerated them by now. It’s what he would have done.
‘Peter’ came to an abrupt halt.
“What is it?” Drax asked quietly.
“Can you hear that?” Ronan asked.
Drax frowned but silenced himself as he listened carefully. He focused away from the noises of the bustling crowds around them, away from the noises of the babbling of a decorative fountain just in front of them. He closed his eyes and pin pointed the sound. It was a Hala death song. On Xandar? That couldn’t be right?
He opened his pale blue eyes and looked to Ronan. “How is that possible?”
“I do not know, but it is the direction we need to go anyhow.” Ronan responded. “Stay close once we get there and protect this body. I do not want my Terran harmed.”
He didn’t need to be told that, but he didn’t argue about it. Peter was his number one priority on this mission. If not for him, Drax would be gleefully enjoying Ronan’s predicament. He missed his wife and he missed his daughter. Even with Gamora around he’d rather they be alive and he be faced with the complications of having met his soulmate while being married to another.
As they made their way toward what looked like a very small Kree temple, Drax felt his stomach sink. The people standing around were Kree, Kree half-breeds, and Kree converts. There were no blue Kree among them as far as Drax could tell, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any inside.
“It’s a funeral.” Ronan commented as Peter’s brows furrowed. “I was not aware that there was a Kree settlement here.”
“Nor was I.” Drax frowned.
Peter felt all manner of emotions rushing about and within. There was callousness, caution, compassion, concern, confusion, and even contempt. Holy shit. Did Ronan really just alphabetize his emotions and stick to one letter? He felt his head ache within a headache and realized he should focus on their surroundings and how Ronan was handling them.
For some reason the Kree that surrounded them began to part as they approached the temple, making room for Drax, too. Was it because they were “Guardians”? Did such a thing matter or was there something else going on here that they weren’t understanding?
They are expecting us. Ronan sent the thought to Peter, his voice somehow managing to cause the shared body to shiver. Stop that. Focus.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Peter smirked to himself. It’s not like he could control it. Or well, maybe that was what Ronan had been attempting to tell him earlier. That he could control it. He just needed to practice. Or something.
A white eyed blue Kree was there when the doors were pushed open. She had priestess vibes, but appeared youthful and had a lovely smile on her face as she greeted them all. In the back of his mind he wondered if the pale eyes meant she was blind.
Obviously. Ronan hissed and at once, Peter became very aware of the anger that was slowly building within his Terran body. Ronan was about to have a massive rage-fest and Peter wasn’t even sure why. Was it his disrespect, or seeing a temple on the planet he hated the most? In all reality, it could have been either.
“Welcome, Drax the Destroy and of course Ronan the Accuser.” The blind woman opened her arms and took a side step to offer them entry to the inside of their temple.
“How do you know of the Accuser?” Peter heard Drax ask.
“Because she is an Oracle of the Kree. Clearly you do not know everything about the Kree as you so earlier boasted.” Peter’s voice snapped with Ronan’s accusatory and angry words.
Jesus, Dude. Calm down. He didn’t mean anything by it. He thought as loudly as he could to the Kree in control of his body.
I am under no obligation to suffer his ignorance. Ronan retorted, that rage continuing to build. And do NOT call me Dude.
Peter wanted to argue but that blind lady was watching them again as they entered the temple. “You are not happy, Accuser Ronan.”
“How am I to be when this is the state of my people. Why are you here? How has this travesty been allowed to pass? You should be with our people, on our planet and not here!”
“I was born here, Ronan.” She responded with a smile. “Had you destroyed Xandar, I would have been reborn and an infant. Thus, I would be completely useless to you.”
“Yes, but one could argue that he wouldn’t have needed you had he succeeded.” Drax offered.
The woman smiled a coy, crooked smile. “Yes, but then it would be Peter he’d be attempting to help put back together again.”
The thought stopped Ronan’s tide of fury as well as Peter’s thoughts before kickstarting them in another direction. What? Ask her how that’s possible! No. She will not answer clearly, she will only speak in vague implications or riddles. Besides, I think understand what she is saying and if you use that head of yours, you will understand as well.
“If you know who and how we are, then you know why we are here.” Drax stated.
“Yes.” She nodded.
Peter waited for something to happen. For someone to say something. For the Oracle to lead them to what they were looking for. But absolutely nothing happened. They all just stood staring at one another. Or well, Drax and Ronan-Peter did. The Oracle simply held still and remained silent.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Come on Lady! We got shit to do!” Peter snapped and realized at once that he’d shoved Ronan aside for control, that he’d let go of his hand so to speak.
“Ah, there you are Star Lord Peter Quill.” She smiled again. “It would have been rude to continue without you.”
“You know I’m right here in this body!” Peter snapped, feeling a lot of Ronan’s excess anger and impatience wrapping him up. “Let’s just get on with it.”
The woman’s youthful blue face contorted with open laughter. “You are not the only one who has much to learn on this journey, Star Lord. Our Accuser believes that his age, his experience, and his species makes him exempt from learning powerful lessons, but he clearly has a ways to go as well.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Peter frowned.
“Soul mates are not just randomly chosen by Creators or Universes. Soul mates both compliment and off-set us. They both strengthen and weaken us. They are required to help us reach out greatest potential but can also hold us back from knowing what we are made of. If we embrace them unchecked we become lost to their will, if we keep them at a distance we are incapable of empathizing with them. Find that perfect balance with your soul mate and you can become the greatest version of yourself you were always meant to be.”
You see. Riddles and vagaries. Ronan snarled from within. Get what we are here for. I do not wish to be in this mockery of a temple.
For the first time since opening the door and inviting them into the table, the Oracle’s features became cross. Her hairless brows furrowed and her lip curled into a sneer as she raised a single, finely manicured hand and pointed her finger in Peter’s face, her black nail nearly touching his nose. “Do not dare blaspheme in one of our temples, Ronan the Accuser. It is beneath you. I care not what soil this temple stands upon, that it stands is reason enough to respect it.”
Peter held completely still as he listened to Ronan within. He was just about to apologize when he felt himself displaced once again as Ronan reconnected with him and took charge. He felt the shame and confliction as it radiated off the Kree’s very soul. In his mind, a temple did not belong upon an unconquered planet with no connections to the Kree or Hala.
“Forgive me, Oracle. Is there a reason you and the others within in this temple sung the funeral chant?”
“Yes.” She nodded, the smile returning to her face. “We grieve your loss to the Kree faithful, Ronan the Accuser. We grieve your passing from your body and to a bodiless prison. We grieve the loss of your standing for our people and our ways. We grieve for you.”
Peter felt the lone nod of understanding and there was a strange calming that was taking up residence in the sea of hate. Almost like an eye at the center of a storm. Knowing that even on Xandar where a small colony of Kree had stood and would have been destroyed, that they mourned him anyhow, meant more to Ronan than Peter would have ever thought.
His soul mate was warmed by the knowledge that someone out there and someone in the last place he’d hoped to find comfort, understood him. Peter could feel the pent up negative emotions begin to fade as they stood under a canopy of black and blue stone.
“We celebrate you, too.” She added as she opened both of her hands so that they were palms up. They were empty but upon blinking, a black dagger appeared in her hand. It was all metal, with hand grip that still clearly needed a hilt. Or maybe the rounded, smooth and blunted metal was meant to be the hilt? “This is all that I have of you, Ronan the Accuser. All that Xandar has of you.”
“This?” Drax frowned as he stared down at it. “But it is a weapon. I see no flesh.”
“That is was what Ronan is, both to himself and to his people. It is what he has always been. I trust that the Star Lord will either find a good use for him, or will remold him into something Ronan and our people will continue to be proud of.”
As soon as Ronan took the blade, something happened and Peter was in control again. He felt a strange rush in his chest and peculiar tickle down his spine. This was not a metal dagger of some black material, despite it’s appearance. It was…strange and breathing. It wasn’t flesh, but it was breathing and humming with life.
Peter could almost see a map forming in his mind and he felt as if he was losing himself to both the dagger and that creative trance he’d started to fall into when he’d been making Ronan’s hand.
“Not here, Star Lord.” The Oracle offered a gentle smile as she placed a hand on his shoulder, distracting him from the dagger. “You need to be off this planet before you begin to experiment.”
“Is this, is this it?” Peter asked again. “Really? There is nothing else we need from here to help him get a body?”
“It is all I or Xandar have of Ronan.” She repeated. “But if that is all you need? You tell me, Peter Quill, Lord of the Stars.”