Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Three orn after everyone had settled back into Kaon the next gift arrived. Optimus noticed that the box was almost exactly the same, just a slight difference in the exact shade, a subtle added richness that was possibly indicative of natural colour. It was a look that could be replicated but at great expense as nanites did not maintain it. That it was used on a courting gift box was a clear statement.

The gift itself was a cover for his jetpack for when he was not using it.

"Hmm sumone likes ya," Jazz teased, though he looked somewhat thoughtful.

“So it seems, they are definitely someone who was part of the procession, and if I am reading this right, these are their native colours,” Optimus gestured to the open box.

"That' what ya file said," Jazz confirmed, picking up the empty box, "it' fine craft, that' fer sure…"

“They also clearly know a few things about me too. This is designed in my colours for the exact model of jetpack I have. Model and size,” Optimus indicated the cover where he was finishing tucking the jetpack into it, it was a perfect snug fit on a jetpack that was custom built for him.

"Or they know Sunstorm or Acid Storm… or knew who made the jetpack. Or, or…" Jazz grinned, "bother ya, or?"

“I know they don’t mean harm and it is possible any or a number of those are correct. It is just a bit frustrating not knowing who they are, especially as… Oh! The gifts started after we found out about my coding…” Optimus glanced over to share a look with Jazz, wondering if that had been the catalyst for the courting to begin.

"Hm, the nice medic did say it was rare…" Jazz hummed, "but the mech gotta 'ave known ya a'fore that ya know?"

“Mmm, yes. But I have met a good number of the ranking mech who came along at the game tables. I can’t say I know many of them but I have met them. Also a lot of them were there when I announced it as part of my statement. Really anyone there, who are part of the procession and naturally have the Warlord's colours,” Optimus shrugged, “It does somewhat reduce the pool… especially when one has to add in that the mech must be a flyer and over a certain size class.”

"What 'bout the Warlord?" Jazz asked neutrally. It was the one mech carrying those colours that could claim to know Optimus.

“Possible. Also I know that Acid Storm and Sunstorm would be absolutely gleeful over it and readily hand over any requested information,” Optimus was not sure what to think of that, but he had been teased and had the idea bounced around enough that he no longer simply rejected it.

"Huh," was Jazz' succinct reply before he changed the conversation to one about Optimus' progress with the jetpack.

Optimus got his chance to see Kaon from above, or at least parts of it, the Embassy needed maintenance and as he had predicted Optimus was roped into it. However Optimus got to see even more travelling to and from Darkmount with his usual research or even going out for fuel. Flying simply felt natural to him, and now he knew why.

"You are getting popular," Bumblebee put down three gifts, only one sporting the distinctive grey colour.

"I'm glad I only have one," he grinned, holding up a slim box of his own, purple and sand colours easily identified.

Optimus sighed but accepted all three boxes, “I wish I knew who any of them are, though I suspect this one might be Roadrage of the Darkmount guards.” Optimus indicated the box which was mostly brown, but also a little green and grey.

The new coloured boxes both held decent quality but generic candy, while the predominantly grey with its red button held something that made Optimus gasp in delight.

“Oh, but who knows I prefer an energy Axe?” Optimus displayed the specialty maintenance kit.

"He isn't a flyer though," Bumblebee remarked, watching Optimus opening his gifts.

Once the other was done he started on his own, remarking, "Sunstorm and Acid Storm, all of us here, probably everyone working for Soundwave… uh, the Warlo~

He broke off with a small oof sound, as if someone had punched him.

“Oh, wow,” Optimus had glanced over when Bumblebee stopped speaking, “You know what this means right? Also I know Roadrage is a grounder, but until I know if it is him or not I don’t want to reject the gift.”

"I… uh, I know. I mean the files, but… I didn't," Bumblebee carefully took the gift out, the short sword clearly made for him, and him only.

“I’m not really surprised, he really likes you. He also tried hard for a long time to get your attention,” Optimus hummed looking the shortsword over appreciatively, though not touching it.

"Well that makes one of us," Bumblebee muttered, turning the blade this way and that.

“I suppose you don’t need me to tell you what your possible appropriate responses are?” Optimus asked, though he was glad that Bumblebee had read the information both the stuff given by Blitzwing and the further stuff he himself had found.

"I'll wear it," Bumblebee stated, serious, if also apprehensive.

"I haven't been toying with him no matter what some think," the last was said fiercely, as if the minibot had had to defend himself before.

Optimus nodded, “I know, I am happy for you both. I think that is a good choice.” He was proud for how far Bumblebee had come since he had first met him.

"What are you going to do? That batch makes… seven suitors? I know there's a whole code to it, but?" Bumblebee smiled, thankful for the kindness before returning to Optimus'... 'problem'. If one could call it that.

“That first one has to be close to revealing themselves… but I was thinking of staging a conversation during the upcoming event at Darkmount, letting mech know I am interested in larger kanoite fliers, not grounders. Otherwise it is wait until they reveal themselves and work from there,” Optimus huffed a little pulling out a different pad to input the details about the new suitors, at least what he could glean from the gifts.

"I'm sure Sunstorm could be convinced to help you with that, don't you?" Bumblebee frowned, "is Wheeljack going this time? He's being weird!"

“Mm I am sure Sunstorm would love to help,” Optimus smiled at the suggestion, though it slid into a worried frown at the mention of Wheeljack, “I am not sure. I think I will talk with Acid Storm about possibly sending Wheeljack to Vos, he really enjoyed his time with the scientists there.”

"He really enjoyed Tesaurus too, until Starscream made an aft out of himself. I still don't get that," Bumblebee shook his helm, annoyed still, "but I hope someone can figure out how to cheer him up soon, Ratchet has begun to make that face at him. You know what I mean?"

“I totally know what you mean. As for why Vos and not Tesaurus, the answer is Starscream. Wheeljack enjoyed taking science with him every chance he could. Also there are mech in Vos who want Wheeljack to join the science team if Starscream allows it,” Optimus explained, he was fairly certain that Starscream was central to Wheeljack’s moping, but in what way was far less certain.

"If it gets him to stop moping," Bumblebee threw up a hand, the other carefully cradling the hilt of the short sword.

"Not that I get what he sees in Starscream!"

“None of us actually know Starscream. I admit mostly because he has not allowed us to know him. Still I will ask Acid,” Optimus hoped it would be the right thing for Wheeljack.

"It's a plan, I, I guess we… maybe you'd like to go out to shop? Um, I'll… I really should show this off," Bumblebee had found the Magnetic clamps that made up the sheath of his new weapon and was fiddling awkwardly with them as he asked.

“Sure, we are running low on rust sticks again, also Jazz wanted more of those blank pads, he goes through so many filing all that rubbish from Iacon, at least there is lots of space to store it all above ground,” Optimus smiled, Bumblebee’s new weapon sure would gain a fair bit of attention, but that was the actual point of going out.

It was a good shopping trip, cosy, they even fuelled out at a nice little cafe. Bumblebee was at once shy and proud of the sword mag locked to his leg.

Chapter Text

"So… what precisely is it that you want known?" Sunstorm was trying really hard not to laugh. Not that he didn't sympathise with his friend, Holy Triad did he ever!, but it was just such a weird thing to see this from the other side…

“Well I don’t know about just announcing that I have pilot coding, so… just that I have a preference for larger Kaonite fliers. I want to cut out the grounders and preferably also those with trine coding… but I am not sure how to state that,” Optimus huffed, he did not blame Sunstorm for finding amusement in this, he had heard stories about all the courting attempts that his friend had had to endure, that was the whole reason for his reputation for not liking sycophants.

"That makes sense, hm, Acid' and I can drop some hints. So can some… don't ask Gashfang or Savage to help though! Triad! Ah, Jazz maybe… though he's going to maybe have to be careful about the political aspects of saying things…" Sunstorm tapped a finely polished claw against his lower derma.

"You saying it would be best, but such a conversation is delicate at a party when none of your suitors are known…"

Optimus nodded, “That is also part of the reason I am asking you, you know better how it is best to do this. Ah I suppose I should ask Bee to not ask General Blitzwing to help… Random is not delicate with his words.” The General was a blast, Optimus had met him a few times now, however his random personality tended to simply blurt things out.

"Oh my, yes, I mean he'd do his best but," Sunstorm rattled his wings and grinned, "we'll do what we can, but you have to consider that most won't stop until you show preference."

“I know, I just am not willing to start rejecting until I know who they are. I am really getting quite curious about the first one though. Do you have any idea who they are? Has anyone approached asking for information you can give to help them?” Optimus decided to just try asking.

"No, I swear Optimus, no one has asked me, or, as far as I know, Acid Storm," Sunstorm said very seriously, "my guess is that whomever your first suitor is he has access to Soundwave somehow. It narrows things, but… not that much."

“For all we know he could be the Warlord himself. Triad, if it is Acid Storm would have a field orn once he gets over the shock. He is always teasing me about liking mech like him,” Optimus shook his helm, though he was smiling fondly at the thought of the friendly teasing. He did believe Sunstorm, the mech was the Helm Priest of Vos; honesty was part of that mandate.

"Oh, and I'm not?" Sunstorm teased good-naturedly.

"We should go in though, or we might start rumours," that was an outright tease followed up by blatantly exaggeratedly lewd wing movement.

“Yeah, we don’t want that, and you are nowhere near as bad about it as your dear mate,” Optimus chuckled and started moving.

"I'm hurt," Sunstorm faked a half swoon, then began walking out the door, "let's find my mate and get presented. I'm the face plate of Vos you know."

“I am sure you will recover,” Optimus replied as blandly as he could.

Once they met up with Acid Storm Optimus asked, “So what are the options for getting Wheeljack a pass into Vos? To work with the science team.”

"100 percent, why? I haven't seen him lately?" Acid Storm asked, rather surprised at the question.

“He has been moping ever since Starscream was sent back to Vos,” Optimus explained, letting a hint of his own worry through.

"Huh… well, he can go to Vos no problem, I'll invite him on behalf of the science team," Acid Storm frowned thoughtfully.

“Good, we all hope that will help him,” Optimus smiled, relieved that at least this part was easy.

With that the trio joined the 'party'. It really was just one of those rather tedious events where the social and political pecking order got re-establish after the vorn long royal procession.

Not fun, but good fuel and games a plenty.

For Optimus, not being as mired in politics it was a fairly normal event up until a certain point.

Mechs had been slowly drifting to the game tables for a while, as fuel had been eaten or fetched and servants began circulation with trays of drinks and sweets of different kinds.

Discussions, whether personal or political, now went on over games or between spectators to games. A hush spread like circles in the water when the Warlord, who never ever played at these events, sat down in front of the brightly coloured grounder who'd just wiped the figurative floor with his latest opponent at Cyberwolves versus Turbodogs.

"I see that you keep your skills honed," the voice was heard by everyone, though Megatron was speaking casually, and only to the mech across the board.

“Of course, my Lord. Though enjoying exercising those skills certainly helps. As does having partners who also enjoys such,” Optimus replied with calm, respectful, confidence though he was wondering what the Warlord was after to break his usual routine.

"And skilled you are, though I am looking forward to the orn we can play this together," the box was very obviously a courting gift, and far more elaborate than the previous ones. If things had been quiet around them before it now seemed they were occupying a vacuum.

To say Optimus was shocked would be a great understatement. His optics were slightly over bright and he was struck speechless as he accepted the familiar yet different box, he cleared the holotable with a ping so he could place it down to open it. Inside was an exquisite hard light holo game set.

“Oh, it is beautiful,” Optimus had to reset both his optics and vocaliser before speaking. Almost in a dream like state Optimus looked up and smiled, “I would look forward to that orn as well, my Lord.”

"It will be soon," Megatron said, promise or threat, and rose, a smile on his derma.

Shortly after Optimus also left in search of Acid Storm and Sunstorm, he simply had to show them this, Jazz and the others he could show when back at the embassy. He felt a strong need to show off his latest gift. He also felt unable to focus on actually playing another game.

“Hah! I told you so,” Acid Storm pointed at Optimus as soon as the other got within, nominally, polite speaking distance, “I called it and you said nooo, but I called it!”

Sunstorm face palmed, though his wings were shaking with mirth.

“Right, I might just go and find Jazz and Prowl, seeing as you are not actually interested in seeing what the gift is,” Optimus huffed, feigning as if he was going to turn away again.

“Whoa, no!” Sunstorm stepped forward, grabbing his mate by the shoulder and clapping a hand over his mouth.

“Tell us!”

Optimus smiled and moved into proper talking distance. “A state of the art hardlight holo game board set. I have not yet activated it, but I can tell it is a fancy detailed set,” Optimus stated proudly.

“What game? Or multiple games?” Acid Storm shoved his mate off him to ask.

“Multiple, with the main being Prime and Protector,” Optimus replied excitedly.

“Let me see that?” Sunstorm held his hands out, and once he had the game he turned it over and looked at the edge, wings going up in an expression of pleasure.

“Is that,” Acid Storm looked over his mate’s arm, “oh my, wow… That's wild even for the Warlord! Oof.”

“What is it? I don’t really know the different makers or their marks yet,” Optimus asked, staying protectively close to the game set.

"It's custom made by Sunrise," Sunstorm said, "I bet you he spent on this! I've heard that Sunrise is picky with work now a orn."

"I don't blame him, he's old and he can afford it," Acid Storm said before telling Optimus, "Sunrise is the greatest artisan crafter in Vos. He's old, but hasn't lost any of his skill or talent."

“Oh. Wow,” Optimus accepted the gameboard back, feeling a touch relieved to have it back in his hands again. He trusted Sunstorm but this was a gift he did not want anything to happen to.

“Though I am not surprised that Sunrise would take a commission from Warlord Megatron, especially for a courting.”

"Point," Sunstorm said, grinning a little at Optimus' protectiveness. Good!

"I want all the details of everything! And I'll trade you, if you tell me when something happens, I'll refrain from teasing," Acid Storm offered solemnly, but with a spark of teasing dancing in his optics.

“Hmm, I suppose, how could I refuse such a generous offer,” Optimus smiled at Acid Storm, he would tell the pair anyway, but when offered a trade like that. How could he be expected to refuse?

"Yes!" Acid Storm flicked his wings with smug pleasure.

"I bonded with a gossip addict," Sunstorm teased, flicking an optic at Optimus.

"So? You still love me," nothing of the smugness melted away, but it mixed with warm feelings of love and happiness.

“Not as if you don’t want to know either,” Optimus chuckled, he knew that Sunstorm simply hid it better.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a gossip,” Sunstorm grinned, sliding his arm around Acid Storm’s back, under his wings.

Optimus shook his helm at the pair, “You know that you both have an open invitation to visit at any time.” Optimus flicked a look at the mecha around who were pretending to not be listening in. He was willing to share gossip with the seeker pair but not everyone else.

“Of course, how about we go enjoy the party and see if we can figure out a visit orn sometime soon?” Acid Storm waved Optimus towards the tables with candy on them and thus got all three moving.

“Now that sounds like a plan,” Optimus grinned, going along with his friends.

Chapter Text

Returning to the embassy Optimus felt there was something of an expectant? Certainly curious air to the others.

Prowl was the one that followed Optimus, Jazz engaged the others so that the Prime and his mate could have a moment.

"It seems Acid Storm was right," Prowl said gently, fields open but not intrusive. He offered support, he was not prying.

Optimus pulled out the gift again, once again safely in its box, “It doesn’t feel real. But yes, Acid Storm was right. We all realised that he could be the one, but it never felt real.”

Optimus opened the ornate box as he spoke, lifting the gameboard out so Prowl could take the box to look over. With a deep vent, he gently set it down and activated it. It was a smooth fade into full activation, a message from the maker that after a breem faded into the main menu.

"He clearly means it, this is exquisite work," Prowl said slowly, "Optimus, Jazz asked me to go with you, to tell you a few things… The first is, this is your life! Technically Jazz has the duty to report what is going on to Iacon. He won't. It will cost him his post, maybe for all of us. We are likely all going to defect if we are called back. For whatever reason. None of this is your fault or responsibility, it would have happened sooner or later. The orn we bonded we knew we'd never return to the Autobots, we only stayed to… well, help. We might not return, but we don't want a war as long as we can work to prevent it."

He paused, looking at Optimus, waiting for him to indicate he understood.

“I know, I have known and understood for some time now. It is why I refuse to acknowledge Iacon as my origin. In that I am grateful to and support you both. That is all outside of what is happening with me personally,” Optimus huffed and looked away from Prowl after the ernesty of the first bit.

“I know I have no obligation to accept Megatron’s suit. I have studied the courting rules quite well in helping Bumblebee, which is basically the same considering how high ranking General Blitzwing is. First chance I get I will ask about the coding. That is important to me. But well… I do like him. Just never considered him available.”

"Well, that makes my second half a bit redundant," Prowl said with his usual gentle, dry humour.

"But in essence, yes. We are not going to make you choose either way. What is important is that you are comfortable with your choices."

“Thank you. It does make it less overwhelming knowing that I have support. But then being courted in general is somewhat overwhelming,” Optimus gave Prowl a grateful smile.

“Now it appears that Hex is included in the extensive game list, do you want a game?” Optimus gestured to the list of games, most of it was variants on a handful of the major strategy games. Hex, while it could, did not have to have complicated strategies and as such was great for a casual game with almost anyone.

"I do," Prowl smiled softly, and settled calmly. He was confident that Optimus had listened and understood.

Chapter Text

"Hm," Bumblebee set a box, topped with an ornately decorated datapad, in front of Optimus, "seems like you are going on a date!"

“Hmm,” Optimus hummed as he activated the pad, reading the contents carefully, “The garden caverns, the entrance near Darkmount. It appears it will be a stroll amongst the crystals next orn.” Optimus smiled, already planning on sending a reply stating he would be there. Jazz would look after that when he went to inform him since he was always sending messages back and forth for his work.

Setting the pad aside gently Optimus moved onto opening the gift, it still did not quite feel real, though he had to admit he did look forward to Megatron’s gifts over the three others that still vied for his attention. At least the ones he was certain to be non fliers had stopped after the last event.

"Ooh," Bumblebee exclaimed, pointing into the box, "try those! Like now, I promise they are good but not like… no wait, think Tesaurian fuel, go on!"

Optimus chuckled and compiled, popping the indicated treat into his mouth. “Mmm, this is really good!”

"So the garden caverns, are you excited?" Bumblebee nodded to the agreement but, as he was wont to do, immediately changed subject.

“I am, they are a place I have not yet had a proper chance to visit, and I get the feeling that we may be visiting some more exclusive sections, considering the entrance we will be using,” Optimus grinned, letting himself imagine it.

"Mm, you are in for a treat," Bumblebee nodded thoughtfully, "I enjoyed it, everytime…"

Inexplicably the minibot flushed hot, looking down at the floor.

“Yeah, I have heard lots of good things, and if it is anything like the Tesaurian caverns,” Optimus agreed, picking out another treat to try.

"It both is, and isn't. Or you know they, there's a lot more than one cavern," Bumblebee mumbled, clearly somewhere else in thought.

“Mmm, hmm. So when are you meeting up with Blitzwing again next?” Optimus decided to change the subject, teasing Bumblebee just a little bit.

"Uh, well… kind of this orn, that's… I was thinking of asking," Bumblebee embarrassedly fumbled along, face plates flushed with heat.

“Ah. Did you want help getting ready?” Optimus was absolutely thrilled for Bumblebee.

"That… um, that would be nice?" Bumblebee mumbled, still showing every sign of hoping a hole would open beneath his peds and swallow him whole. Thanks to the files, and Ratchet sort of, no one at the Embassy was in doubt about how Deceticons acted in the latter part of a courtship. It was however very new to the minibot to be in the latter part of any sort of courtship, but especially one where his much larger courtmate enthusiastically proved that size difference wasn't an issue, at all!

“So where are you going for this date?” Optimus asked, packing his stuff away, carefully repacking his gift.

"The garden caverns," Bumblebee looked up, a ghostly hint of his usually so enthusiastic smile on his derma. Oh, he was enthusiastic, but embarrassment still trumped that, as Blitzwing had told him, in detail, what was going to be happening. Oh, he'd promised privacy from prying optics, but no more. The minibot understood, but it would take a lot more than half a vorn of courtship to get him used to public interfacing. Of any sort.

“A popular date location,” Optimus hummed, he knew there would be alcoves just like in Vos or Tesarus, he could also guess at the likely reason for Bee’s embarrassment, “Ready?”

"If you have the time now," Bumblebee nodded, making an effort to shed the embarrassment.

Chapter Text

Privacy is relative when you are the ruler of half a planet and assorted colonies. But Megatron had made an effort, both for privacy, safety and to minimise the effect his date would have on Kaon' orn to orn doings.

Optimus made sure to be just a shade early to the meeting location, armour polished to a low gleam, something he found he preferred over the high ‘blind you’ shine the seekers seemed to prefer.

"Optimus Prime," the guard asked respectfully, his fields held closed and his expression neutral. He was at work.

“Yes,” Optimus smiled at the guard, he recognised him from the times he had spent visiting the Darkmount archives and the far rarer games with the Warlord. Optimus allowed himself to be checked over. He did not attempt idle chatter, they were out in a nominally public area and the mech was working, though he did want to ask how the mech’s mate was doing.

"The Warlord is waiting for you inside," Staticshock allowed himself a small smile, stepping back to gesture at the cave mouth. Well, it was more of an elaborately carved portal into the underground, but it still led to the cave that was the entry onto the underground network of caverns that lay beneath the city of Kaon, and specifically to the part called the gardens.

“Thank you, Staticshock,” Optimus dipped his helm and moved past the guard and through the entrance. Confidently Optimus continued forwards until he encountered a second guard around a corner and a little further along he could see Warlord Megatron.

"Welcome, Optimus," Megatron rumbled his greeting, a smile on thin, scarred derma, "it is good to see you."

“Thank you, my Lord. It is good to see you as well,” Optimus returned the smile, though such an impersonal term of address felt odd in this context, he had not been given permission to call him otherwise.

“Ah, well, we do need to get that out of the way,” Megatron’s smile became something of a grin, “for now I can only invite you to do so when we are private, but I would like you to simply call me Megatron.”

“As you wish, regrettably the gardens are not what I would call properly private, though I do hope for a moment where it is mostly private, as I feel there are a few things we should discuss,” Optimus replied, thinking about his coding and the need to be certain for if Megatron carried the compatible vessel coding.

“I fear this is as private as we will get for a good while, so let the record show I call this a private situation… for future reference,” Megatron offered his arm, and started them down the broad swath of the central path.

“I do believe you are correct about us having to discuss certain things. I for one need to explain myself. And so I will start. Yes, I decided to court you the moment I learned that you have the rare code strain called Pilot code. Yes, that means I am in possession of the complementary coding strain called Vessel code. Does this mean I have no actual interest in you, no, it does not. I may be pragmatic about this explanation, but that is because you deserve the facts. You are a very interesting, engaging and brilliant young mech. When I met you and we had our first game I regretted our situation for a short while. You, an Autobot, would not have consented to a dalliance, and I, with Vessel coding, could not in good conscience offer anything else. Nor could it have been said to be a smart thing to do given the tension between Iacon and the Decepticon Empire. Things have indeed changed since then though, and I am very pleased with that change.”

Optimus listened carefully and without interruption until Megatron was finished.

“I thought that might be the case, but I had to be certain with regards to the coding. If you did not have the Vessel coding I would have had to cut off the courting. When I first arrived… ah well I certainly was in no state to accept any overtures, having to work hard to settle in and find my place. The task of cultural research was a brilliant move on Jazz’s behalf,” Optimus hummed and continued with a glance up at his larger companion, “I do find you attractive, intelligent, generous within reason, and the most brilliant strategist I have had the honour to meet, let alone play against.”

“I see, and I am pleased. It seems we have a strong foundation to build on. Are you comfortable with proceeding?” Megatron gently guided the smaller mech off the main path and down a narrower one edged with tall green Crystal spires.

“I am, I do wish to see where this may lead us. Though I must admit it does not quite feel real,” Optimus enjoyed looking around now that the things that had to be said were out.

“I do not blame you, it took me a bit of time after your words at the, hm, trial I suppose, to really realise what you had said. By then I had already started things rolling, but it was… quite the shock,” Megatron nodded, “and of course I know you have several suitors interested in you. Soundwave is very thorough… I do not wish to hide from you that I have used all tools at my disposal.”

“After Sunstorm informed me that no one had, at that point, asked him for information on me for courting purposes, we figured Soundwave was likely involved, especially for gifts like the cover for my jetpack. It fits perfectly. I will be asking the others about the coding, as they reveal themselves, unless there are other reasons I may not be interested in them,” Optimus knew it would have to be soon on at least one if not all three for their reveals.

“That is more than fair, Optimus, I do employ all tools I have, but I never compete unethically. In a manner of speaking Kaonite courting, when performed by rivals for one mech’s affection, is a form of competition. A display of skills, wealth, consideration, honesty… positive activs of any mech. I would never call you a prize, as you are, more fittingly said, the judge. You will be the one to judge each of us and our suitability to you,” Megatron paused thoughtfully.

“My honesty is a part of the courting, I do not intend to hide what I am. I have my personal collection of mistakes, things you might judge as vile actions… I will not hide them, I am a ruler, and I carry all that that means with me in life. I also know what my courtship will mean for you, and the rest of Ambassador Jazz’ team… your family. If no other reason for not letting you go in half blind sacrifice for me, that is one that trumps all.”

“We have already discussed what this means. But as I see it, there is already a collection of things that Jazz is hiding from Iacon, that would have him removed from his position. This is simply the most public one likely to be heard about in Iacon. But then Bumblebee and General Blitzwing is a similar situation,” Optimus tilted his helm to look up at Megatron with a steady gaze. “I am not doing this for anyone else other than myself. I also greatly appreciate honesty. I do know that explaining the courting is not typically done, however most of the time it is not needed as both or all parties already understand what is going on. I am finding that reading about it and living it can be quite a different experience.”

“Life rarely conforms to the ideas we have for it,” Megatron nodded, “and yes, it is true that the courtship itself isn’t usually discussed. I suppose, as you say, because there is little need for it. I must make as classic a courtship as possible… partly because you are not a Decepticon, and partly because I am who I am. I do not want you accused of hm, cheating somehow. It would help if you went to a clinic here in Kaon and allowed your coding to become a matter of public record. But I am not going to force the issue.”

“I have been considering letting our medic Ratchet do a deep look in my coding. I will discuss doing so at a facility outside the embassy with a Decepticon medic present. None of us had even heard of either strain of coding before, not even Ratchet. So I am wondering what else may be in any of our coding that we are not taught about in Iacon,” Optimus agreed, he did understand that this courtship would have to be very public, not telling everything but definitely not hiding.

“It is very kind of you to even consider humouring such a suggestion, from anyone,” Megatron noted, gratitude in his voice, “ah, but… have we put enough of the basics out for now to leave them for the duration of the rest of the date?”

“I had not actually visited the gardens before, perhaps you could tell me a little about them?” Optimus suggested, cosying up a little more. They had just moved into a section with a few others present and he was glad to be done with the more sensitive discussions for the moment.

"Hmm, tell you of the gardens," Megatron rumbled thoughtfully, absently petting the hand resting on his left forearm.

"Kaon was a realm of nomadic tribes before the Great Union. The only shared territory was this mountain and the caves under it. As time went on new spaces were carved, the mountain and surroundings hollowed out according to plans, and by mechs, long forgotten. The garden caverns were, according to legend and our oldest records, the natural caves in which our nomadic ancestors lived and farmed during storm season. Some of them are still farmed in the manner of old."

“So they are not just leisure gardens but functional ones as well. Are any of the farming ones open for public access?” Optimus found he was quite curious about seeing how various crystals were farmed, harvested and processed for use.

"All of them are open, and technically all of them can be farmed, but the caretakers ensure that each cavern has a resting period in between allowed harvesting. Blenders from the Darkmount fuel preparation teams harvest here, along with any Kaonite living mech who wishes to," Megatron explained patiently, and pointed to the base of a cluster of branching purple crystals, "look, do you see those small opalescent round crystals at the base there? Those are edible, and there, the deep green tiny spires? Those are also edible."

“Oh! That is neat,” Optimus grinned, finally relaxing into the moment being faced with something he enjoyed.

They walked the gardens, talked of crystals and history, at one point they came upon a prepared area for a picnic and settled down to fuel. Megatron was pleased with the orn as it were.

“I do have a question for you, or perhaps more correctly to relate to you,” they were at the dessert and Megatron was offering a plate of little creamed energon filled wax pockets, “Blitzwing is going to need a final gift, and he really doesn’t know what would be appropriate that can both appeal to his little Iaconian and satisfy Kaonite costume.”

“Hmm, gifts are always difficult,” Optimus agreed, accepting one of the wax pockets. “I do know that Sunstorm and Acid Storm are getting them a magnetic clamp set for Bumblebee to fly with Blitzwing. Perhaps a chance or an environment for them to use that?” Optimus suggested, neatly biting into the dessert, careful to not let the filling spill out.

“I will provide that, but no… Blitzwing must give an item, preferably a weapon or tool of defence of some sort,” Megatron took a pocket for himself, delicately holding the little thing between the tips of two claws.

“Hmmm,” Optimus hummed as he considered, thinking over what he knew of Bumblebee.

“He does have a set of inbuilt weapons, but is somewhat embarrassed by them as they are not very strong. Electric stingers. An upgrade for those might fit all the requirements.”

“Ah, now that is something to work with,” Megatron nodded seriously, “Inbuilt weapons… he has hidden that well, interesting…”

“I am glad that things are working out for them. As I said he is embarrassed by them as they are. He also tried going through the Elite guard, however due to circumstances they kicked him out, in that time they never seriously looked at giving him an upgrade. I fear they may have been simply looking for an excuse to be rid of him,” Optimus shook his helm at the cruelty of it. He knew Bumblebee’s story and this was greatly abbreviated and missing details.

“I am confused, explain,” Megatron asked, though the formulation was more of a demand, the tone was clearly questioning.

“It is not really my story to tell, so there are parts that I can not explain further,” Optimus sighed, thinking through what he could tell.

“It is my belief that Bumblebee was guided or even directly sent to the Elite guard because he has natural weaponry. However it is not a place that will look after a mech like Bumblebee who needs different kinds of incentives and training than a mech like myself. Indeed even I found it hard to properly fit into the mould they set as standard. I am not saying that he did not act immaturely, nor that he had no fault in the incident that occured, but he is very young and I do not think he should have been accepted as young as he was at the time. It was likely for the best that he was sent here rather than any of the other options they have for ‘undesirable’ mech,” Optimus briefly sneered at the last bit, not at all approving of the way Iacon did things any longer, the way they simply used mech.

“Hm, more the fools they,” Megatron muttered, shaking his helm, “I shall never understand this propensity to toss away talent simply because it doesn't come out in a way they know how to handle and form.”

“I don’t pretend to understand it either. I honestly think that Blitzwing is good for him. Bumblebee certainly has been much happier after he come to understand what the courting was, and far more so after he started hanging out with Blitzwing,” To Optimus it was like a different mech than the sulky immature young mech he had first met, to this vibrant, outgoing, though surprisingly shy mech he was now.

“Mutual admiration and affection can often bring out the best in mechs,” Megatron said, grinning as he glanced at his companion, “like our games… and if I am to believe a certain Skylord.”

Optimus grinned in return, “Indeed it can. And yes I did have the fortune of being invited to play against Skylord Thundercracker. He has a very different play style than yourself.”

“He has a very different perspective on a battlefield than you or I,” Megatron acknowledged, “it is very challenging to play him, especially if the majority of the troops can fly."

“He is also an excellent teacher. Thanks to him I am confident with using the terrain bonuses now. Your arena match against him was spectacular,” Optimus purred just thinking about it. That match had been unlike anything else he had ever seen.

“Thank you,” Megatron demurred, but it was easy to see and teek that he was highly pleased by Optimus’ words.

“Yes, he is a very, very good teacher, but then that is how he lived a good part of his life before Primus decided he was ready for a greater challenge.”

“Yes, Sunstorm has told me about how it was believed he would be the next Skylord, being Thundercracker’s protege, and how they discovered together the path Primus wished for each of them,” Optimus smiled, “They have both done very well having listened to Primus’s will.”

“There may be times where you can choose not to listen to the Gods, that was not one of them,” Megatron agreed, “and one must commend the Gods that they allowed the both of them time to become whole before they showed them the next part of their path.”

“I have spoken with Sunstorm about the Gods and their will, and about Special sparks. How they are for the most part fluid, working with our choices. But when things truly matter they find ways to make their will known,” Optimus hummed, thinking back on how confused and distressed he had been over choice or lack thereof in his path.

“We were given free will, though it doesn't always feel like we have it,” Megatron huffed softly, “when examining the feeling of being directed we most often find that the ones directing us are mechs, our culture or our personality. It is exceedingly rare that the Gods themselves put effort into limiting us. And when they do, it is because there is something at stake.”

“I had been wondering if my being sent to Kaon was perhaps guided, but Sunstorm assured me that it was far more likely the actions of mech, and that the events since is likely one path set out branching from that point,” Optimus took another dessert wax, playing with it a little before eating it.

“And he is probably telling the truth,” Megatron nodded, “that does not mean that someone in the chains of events wasn't nudged by divine inspiration.”

“Either way, I am happy with the path I am on now. That is what matters most. Though this whole thing with my coding, I am wondering if some nudging may have indeed happened,” Optimus stated thoughtfully. “I don’t think it would have been good if my coding had been discovered in Iacon.”

“If it wasn’t already known,” Megatron pointed out gently, “knowing the coding is not quite the same as knowing the significance of it. And… if it is a path guided in some way by the Gods, can you truly say you are unhappy with their gifts?”

“That is true. I would have to say I have been quite happy with their gifts, if it is indeed such. Jazz keeps on saying I am Primus sent, able to reach through barriers that he struggled with because of the politics involved. I can trace everything back to that first darkcycle when Acid Storm managed to claim the position as my table partner,” Optimus mused, thinking back over it again and coming to the same conclusion, the moment Acid Storm sat next to him, was the one where this path was decided.

“Ah, yes… but you could have decided not to be his friend, he could have said the wrong thing, or shown a lack of willingness to understand. There are many factors in it that were up to the two of you, as mechs. I don’t think you should speculate too much on it, really, or that at least has been my own hard earned experience. The Gods will grant the individual happiness, and sometimes we pay them back in ways we shall never know. Maybe you will know, maybe not,” Megatron shrugged lightly.

Optimus chuckled, “All true, what I mean is that I am grateful to that moment and that things did play out as they have. Hard earned? So you have speculated on fate, our Gods and the true value of our choices?” This was the second and more obvious indicator of such, that Megatron had given.

“Indeed I have, my time of blissful lack of understanding of the workings of the world… it was short, Optimus, and not because it wasn’t attempted to protect me from it all. Privilege is followed by responsibility. As is prowess on the battlefield and prowess of intellect. I was given all of those three, it was far more important that I understood my responsibilities than it was that I be a sparkling for long,” Megatron huffed softly.

Not knowing what to say Optimus instead leant forwards and lightly placed a hand on Megatron’s heavily armoured gauntlet.

“A price you had to pay so many others could live their lives in peace,” Optimus muttered after a few moments.

“That is how it is, but to a young mech it does lend to many a long, dark row of calculations and thoughts,” Megatron smiled and covered the hand with his own, “I am at peace, and I have decided to believe I was the best option for this role at the time. Not because of my ancestry, but because of my abilities… and my education.”

“Your people certainly love you, Kaon flourishes as do Vos and Tesarus. Iacon fears to move against you, giving you and your people peace. The Gods would have to be pleased, irrespective of if this was their initial choice for you or not,” Optimus agreed, Megatron was where he was needed most, and seemingly best suited too, despite the hardships of the position.

"Thank you, Optimus," Megatron did not pollute his sincere words with flowery speech or unnecessary platitudes.

"Now, do you wish to see more of the gardens?"

“I very much would like that,” Optimus smiled, gently taking his hand back so they could move. Optimus wanted to pack the raminder away, however he could already see a recognised servant waiting to do just that.

It was just a bit over a joor later that the date ended, even courtship had time limits when a ruler was involved. Before they parted ways Megatron gave Optimus a small gift and asked him to open it later, at home.

Chapter Text

As requested Optimus opened the gift the moment he was back in his room at the embassy, and immediately went to find someone to show. The gift box still with the finial decorations inside, clutched protectively to his chest.

“Heya Oppy,” Jazz greeted lazily, laying across Prowl’s lap and doing something that might be paperwork. It probably was paperwork, Jazz was not fond of having a particular office or indeed any space that looked ‘work’ like.

“Hello, Optimus,” Prowl’s voice was milder and he didn’t look up from the pad he was reading.

“Hey Jazz, Prowl. Jazz? When is the next event coming up?” Optimus asked, sitting down near the pair and once more looking into the open gift box.

“Ah think…” Jazz looked up again and zeroed in on the box, “ooh, well, tha’ would be around three orn.”

“Hmm?” Prowl read on, his noise of interest a reaction to Jazz’s sudden sharp curiosity.

“Good, I won’t have to wait long for a chance to show off these then,” Optimus grinned, as he carefully took one of the pieces out to show.

“Is tha’ Sapphires?” Jazz looked at the piece with wide optics behind his visor.

“Hm,” Prowl had finally looked up, and smiled at Optimus, “the date was good then, that is beautiful work… did you like the garden?”

“I do believe it is,” Optimus purred, moving the piece so it caught the light. “The date went very well, and I love the gardens. I am thinking about volunteering there to learn how to identify the different crystals, how to tend to them and harvest so as to not damage the rest.”

“You can come with me then,” Prowl offered with a hum, following the glittery piece of jewellery for a moment, “you should get something like a loin cloth to go with those. It would show that you are… what is it called?”

“Willin’ ta embrace tha culture,” Jazz volunteered.

“That is a good idea. And I think I will take you up on that offer, Prowl. When I can ever find a spare moment,” Optimus teased lightly, thinking of the two still anonymous suitors, once they revealed themselves he would be quite busy with his usual work, events and dates.

“Ha,” Jazz said and made a face, “ahm ‘appy ahm no’ ya!”

“He’s partially lying,” Prowl said, easily catching and kissing Jazz's hand when the slightly smaller mech swatted at him, “there's something alluring about the Kaonite courting methods. Something that makes a mech feel worthy, seen, heard. It’s done wonders for Bumblebee… It’s not hard to be a little envious.” he smiled at Optimus to take any perceived sting out of the words.

“It is very flattering,” Optimus agreed, putting the piece back into the box and smiling at the pair, “At least when you know what is happening and the expected, accepted responses.”

“Yes, that part was something we all could have done without,” Prowl said dryly, kissing Jazz’s hand again as the other chortled wordlessly, “going to show that off to him and Bulkhead now?”

“I am. Bee is still getting a real kick out of every step, every gift I receive,” Optimus chuckled, standing to go find Bulkhead and Bumblebee.

Chapter Text

Optimus did get a chance to go with Prowl before the event.

“So, Optimus, gardens first or look for an appropriate piece of clothing to fit your jewellery?” Prowl asked.

“Shopping first, that way we don’t have to worry about what time the shops close for the orn,” Optimus replied after a moment of thought. That way they would simply be able to relax and enjoy their time in the gardens.

“Have you been to the accessory marketplace before?” Jazz absolutely loved it, though they were not able to wear most of what they had bought. It was not a part of their persona of being representatives of Iacon. Prowl, well, he too liked it, especially loin cloth.

“Once, briefly with Bumblebee, ah that was while in Tesarus though, so… No, not the Kaon one,” Optimus shook his helm.

“Ah,” Prowl nodded, “any thoughts on what you wish to shop for? Veil, loincloth… cape perhaps. I admit I am biassed, but do not let my preferences colour your options,” Prowl smiled softly, easily pacing the larger mech.

“Definitely not any veils, maybe a mantle? Or a half cape. And perhaps a couple loin cloths,” Optimus hummed, considering what he had seen others wear and what he liked the look of best.

“You do have the pauldron configuration to bear a mantle well,” Prowl acknowledged, steering them to the left of the market, “and I applaud you for leaving off veils. I am not certain and I do not think you have yet looked into it, but it seems there is a certain cultural significance to the veils.”

“I will add, ‘clothing types’ to my research list,” Optimus chuckled, though he did take out his pad and jot it down then and there. “You are right, I have yet to look into any of that.”

“Hmm, I believe you will do it, as you do all else, but Optimus,” Prowl paused, “I know Jazz have been on you with this, but do remember to take care?”

“I am always fully transparent with my inquiries. Also it still does not feel like work. Even less like work now. I don’t think I can recall another time in my existence where I have been happier,” Optimus admitted, unwittingly thinking of his recent date with Megatron along with hanging out with Sunstorm and Acid Storm, or even the games he played with Skylord Thundercracker, not to mention the determination to visit Tesaurus again and hopefully play against Deathsaurus again. Then there were the now countless moments with the others in the Embassy, mech who now felt like family.

“We know that, and… it’s hard to miss the happiness,” Prowl huffed softly, “I suppose we’re simply a little overprotective, what with Bumblebee and Bulkhead. And Wheeljack now, though he seemed to perk a little when he got that invitation from Skyfire.”

“I do appreciate it. I also really hope that returning to Vos will help Wheeljack, he certainly seemed to get along much better with the scientists there than he does the ones here,” Optimus sighed, before lifting his helm and looking around at the stalls in the section they had just entered.

“Oh!” Optimus immediately started heading towards a stall that had different coloured mantles on display, all too big, but there was a sign saying fittings available.

Prowl hummed his agreement and followed along to look at the wares on display.

"That design is attractive," he pointed to a silver item, the smooth surface worked over with delicate networks of glyphs.

“I think this one will set off the jewellery better,” Optimus indicated a solid deep silvered blue, “Also have to be careful with runes in designs, know the meanings first.”

"Perhaps a talk with the maker would be beneficial. Or do you wish to look around first?" Prowl asked, smiling a little.

“Hmm, look around a bit first,” Optimus decided after a moment longer. “I will get a better idea of what I like and want that way.”

Prowl agreed and pointed out a cape vendor a few places over, explaining that Jazz had gotten a few things from there.

They spent over a joor wandering from stall to stall, looking, comparing and eventually talking with the crafts mech and standing for a few fittings. Optimus was very pleased with the three items he got, two loin cloths, one a fiery red the other patterned blue and silver, and a mantle made in the same colour as the first to catch his optic, but with slightly longer faux metaliofur filaments.

“Everything packed?” Prowl was amused, it was not at all like shopping with Jazz. Optimus was almost as deliberate as he himself was in his choices. And he had very good taste… Jazz was a bit of a glitter flitter.

“It is now,” Optimus smiled, storing the last package in his subspace, “I will certainly make a statement at the next event.”

“That you will, are you ready for the garden?” Prowl asked, though they already moved towards the road.

“I am,” Optimus replied happily, he was very much looking forward to it.

It was not a long trip to the entrance to one of the ‘open’ gardens. Prowl had been there recently so he could lead Optimus right to where the gardeners were holding a class for younglings on how to harvest. Some few adults were there too and all that was done in reaction to them showing up was a few nods, some curiosity and smiles.

Optimus thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. He found out that most of the adults were the creators of the younglings, though all were allowed and encouraged to join in. It gave him a different perspective on life in Kaon than the one he had already gained.

Prowl liked these classes for many reasons, not least among them being the younglings. He envied the Kaonites on that score, being free to create and having a life structured so it was secure and made to elevate everyone as well as could be.

Not flawless, nothing ever was, but not so ridgid that flaws couldn't be corrected.

"So, did you like the lesson?"

“I did,” Optimus smiled, “It was really informative, these younglings are fortunate to have access to such.” Optimus watched a youngling tell their creator all about the lesson, even though the mech had also been present. It stirred something protective within him.

"That they are, the lessons, nature… all of it," Prowl agreed, "they have been wiser than most Autobot cities."

He gestured towards the path that would lead them back out of the cavern gardens, "it is late in the orn, what do you think about bringing home last meal for everyone?"

“I think that is a very good idea that everyone will appreciate,” Optimus replied to the easier part first adding softly, “I do think this is a good place to raise sparklings.”

"It would be, yes," Prowl agreed wistfully and then steered conversation onto what they should get for everyone. Sparklings… they would come soon enough.

Chapter Text

Optimus looked up and around as a stranger called out his designation. Bemused he told Prowl that he could continue on if he wished, he would catch up once he had seen what this was about.

"For you, dear one," Celadon didn't have high hopes, but… the mech was gorgeous and smart. Who knew? if one didn't try then one never would. He held the gift box, politely waiting for the younger mech's response before attempting to pass it over.

“Ah, Thank you. However before I can accept I have one question,” Optimus smiled at the mech, he could not immediately tell if he might be a vessel or not.

"Of course," Celadon nodded, "I shall answer to the best of my knowledge and ability."

“It is a matter of coding and if you can not answer now that is fine. But I would need to know before the courting can proceed,” Optimus explained, giving a pause to check if the other understood and forged on, “I have a rare type of coding, Pilot coding and it is very important to me that my eventual mate has the corresponding Vessel coding. So that is my question. Do you have Vessel coding?”

"Ah," Celadon smiled sadly, "I do not, I thank you for your frank honestly, dear one. And for the chance to court you, however brief an experience it was."

“It is only what you deserve. I wish you luck and happiness in your future endeavours,” Optimus dipped his helm in respect as they parted from each other. He did feel a pang of sadness for the mech but he knew this was for the best, the coding was that important to him. It was also not anything that would bring shame to the mech or make it harder for him to court another, especially since others had heard their exchange.

Prowl slipped up to Optimus' side and gave him a crooked smile, "you handled that very well, gently and respectful."

“Thank you, I do feel a little bad. But I also know that only one can win my spark, and they must have the coding,” Optimus sighed, but he also gave Prowl a grateful smile.

"You said ‘no’ the Kaonite way, he couldn't ask for more," clear, concise and polite. Prowl huffed softly, "I don't think you would be faulted for not following this code, but I might be wrong."

“Ah, well it is the way that feels most right to me,” Optimus shrugged. “But yes, he is not left wondering, nor did I string him along. So I guess I have to simply accept it and move on.”

"It takes time to get used to their ways," Prowl said, but then grinned, as much as he ever did, "you come naturally to most of it."

Optimus agreed and moved the topic to nonconsequential things for the remainder of the way back.

Chapter Text

Optimus knew it would be fine, that he looked good, but still he fidgeted and wondered if wearing both the fiery loin cloth and the mantel with the jewellery was a bit much. All too soon it was too late to change his mind as the elevator opened allowing them out onto the level of the gathering.

There was no longer any chance that the arrival of the Autobot Ambassador would be overlooked or ignored. Optics turned to them and new conversations started up as mechs moved to let them enter unhindered.

Optimus moved with the others to be presented first before mingling. He did wonder what Warlord Megatron would think of his appearance, if he would approve of his choices.

Megatron smiled with genuine pleasure as the Iaconians were officially introduced to the gathering, rising from his seat once it was over. The slight hush immediately became much more pronounced.

"Might I request to borrow your Prime, ambassador," he asked politely.

Optimus, now well versed in these events knew to remain quiet, though he had to fight to remain still and standing straight. Primus! Was this what a crush was like?

"O'couse ya can, m'Lord," Jazz grinned, though he kept it polite-ish.

Optimus moved forwards when Jazz granted permission, bowing politely, though managing to make himself wait for what Megatron wanted.

"Hello dear one," Megatron didn't know he was echoing another mech, he simply smiled down at the younger mech and asked, "would you keep me company for the rest of the greeting and for the meal?"

“It would be my pleasure, my lord,” Optimus replied as steadily as he could, returning the smile he felt himself calm down a little. Megatron made him feel safe.

A seat for Optimus had 'materialized' while they talked and Megatron proudly got the smaller mech settled.

"I see you liked the gift, may I compliment your taste in accessories?"

“I very much do like it, they are beautiful,” Optimus reached up to lightly brush one of the pair of said gift, letting everyone watching know what the gift in question was.

“Thank you, my Lord, I am glad you like them.”

They were interrupted by another greeting. But Megatron knew how to do this and kept up a line of small talk and compliments between each greeting with relative ease.

Once the last invited had arrived he rose and offered Optimus his arm, escorting him to the table, the head of the table.

"For you, dear one," he presented the seat, some creativity had gone into making it as Megatron was that much larger.

Optimus graciously, as he could, accepted and settled, though he felt ridiculously awkward, even more so than earlier. He did feel somewhat better after Megatron was seated next to him. He did realise that if Megatron won his spark then a more permanent version of something like this would be his.

"It is not ideal," Megatron leaned slightly towards Optimus, voice low but not a whisper, "the rules are rigid for a courting, if we bond you might choose another… arrangement. Such as sitting in my lap, or sitting with a friend."

“It is manageable for now, but yes, not ideal,” Optimus agreed, he was not going to touch the first idea, especially when everyone who could was watching them. He knew how Megatron meant it, but he could not help his mind going other places.

"If it becomes too uncomfortable for you, please tell me," Megatron implored, oblivious to any secondary meanings to his words.

"Perhaps after the meal we can withdraw to somewhere more comfortable and have a little game."

“I promise. Also that sounds like a lovely idea,” Optimus perked up at the idea of a game, it had been quite a while since he had last had a chance to play against Megatron.

"It is something I have been hoping to arrange for some time now, unfortunately a Royal procession leaves a lot of work to pick up," Megatron huffed softly, quirking a smile, "I found an item I wished to have you see while in Tesaurus."

“Your dedication to your work is only to be admired,” Optimus stated honestly, adding with a shy smile, “And now you have me intrigued.”

"Mission accomplished then," Megatron grinned, a hint of fangs gleaming in the light. He leaned forward and carefully picked items from what was on offer, putting it on a plate and presenting it to Optimus.

“Thank you,” Optimus shyly accepted the plate, setting it neatly between his now neatly set out knives. He had read about this, but still it was so different living it.

Selecting an appropriate knife Optimus sampled one of his favourite things. “This is wonderful, the blenders have outdone themselves.”

"They will be glad to hear your compliments," Megatron said gravely, it was true too. While many were reeling from the fact that Optimus was Iaconian, most were ecstatic that he had found someone to court. The fact of his Vessel coding hadn't been wide spread and his people had been concerned over the lack of a mate and heir. Pretty much everyone was ready to stand on their helms if they thought that would help him pull the courtship to a positive end.

"I can assure you that much thought has been put into this last meal menu."

“It is very much appreciated. As is the selection you have picked out,” Optimus decided to play it up a little, only honestly, but he did like Megatron and wanted to let that be known. He still did not know who the other still vying for his affections was, they could be here for all he knew.

Megatron rumbled with genuine pleasure and made up a plate of his own. They were being left alone, blatantly so, but again he appreciated the support of his people.

"I have been made aware that our venture to the cavern gardens has piqued your interest in flora?" Megatron questioned lightly.

Optimus carefully made sure to take note of what Megatron chose for himself. Eventually, if they got that far, lovers' meals might mean feeding the other, and as such he wanted to be well and truly ready and know what Megatron liked.

“Indeed it has. Learning to identify, look after and harvest various crystals is a skill anyone can learn, and beneficial for all. I was delighted to find there are lessons appropriate even for younglings,” Optimus replied conversationally, his approval clear in his tone.

"Respect for our world cannot be taught too early," Megatron said seriously, "learning to use and encourage new growth is part of that. Our world is a gift, and gifts must be treated with care and respect."

“I could not agree more,” Optimus agreed just as seriously, adding a little wistfully, “Any sparklings I eventually have will be taught early.”

"You wish for littles then," it wasn't really a question, Megatron hadn't really doubted. Given how Optimus had reportedly acted around any sparklings and younglings he'd encountered.

“I do. I have no idea yet how many I would like, but more than one,” Optimus smiled softly at the thought.

"Most young mechs haven't thought much of offspring. I am not surprised you would have given it thought though," Megatron smiled, "I am rather curious, what of the Ambassador and his mate?"

“Their position with Iacon makes it very difficult for them, I have not asked, however I believe they would like to create together when their situation allows it,” Optimus sighed, having to deal with Iacon made quite a few things difficult. “Iacon does not even know of their bond. But they also recognise the importance of their work.”

"Hmm, I did think it was something of the like," Megatron nodded, "it is unfortunate and yet I can only be thankful that they have done their job so well."

“I too am grateful to them both. Other than your position calling for an heir, have you thought of having sparklings?” Optimus asked, deciding to change the subject back to something a little more pleasant.

"Mmm, yes, as a sparkling and youngling I wished desperately for siblings. If possible I would like a big family," Megatron rumbled, optics going a little vacant in recall, "my Creators tried, but never succeeded."

“In that respect Prince Deathsaurus is very fortunate, having his adopted siblings,” Optimus mused, thinking back on the trio and how they had acted as they told their story.

“Indeed he is, though I suppose it is good that we do not breed as easily as some organics,” while Cybertron could support more than it did at this time, and the colonies certainly could. It wasn't a good thing to flood their world with mechs though, or the galaxy for that matter.

“It is balanced out in that we do live significantly longer than any known organic species,” Optimus stated though he was also nodding his agreement. Many organics could breed far easier than was sensible.

“That is true,” Megatron turned the conversation to Tesaurus, asking about the experience of being a part of a household there. A long time ago he had tried it too of course, before becoming Warlord himself.

Optimus laughed and started sharing stories of his experience, starting with the first morning waking to find the sparklings and younglings had found them.

Chapter Text

The meal was long, of course, but eventually it came to an end. Mechs began drifting from the table to the other rooms and the tables that had been piled with delicious displays of candy and goodies, or fancy drinks.

“Are you ready for a game?” Megatron rose and offered Optimus a hand to get down from the awkward seating arrangement.

“I am, very much so, I am,” Optimus replied earnestly as he accepted the assistance. “I have learned much during the time since our last game.”

They only got a short way though when a mech, one of the Kaonite nobles, stepped forward and bowed.

“May I have a word with Optimus Prime?” he asked very politely.

Megatron rumbled softly, but gently disengaged and murmured that he would see Optimus in a moment or two.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, noble Chalgara?” Optimus asked politely after they had moved a step away for a token of, hmm not ‘privacy’, but to show it was a conversation just between the two of them.

“I wished to give you this,” Chalgara brought out a small, flat box and offered it to the smaller mech with both hands.

“Before I can accept, I have one question. It is a matter of coding, so I am sure you will understand when I say as a Pilot I must ask if you have Vessel coding?” Optimus asked seriously, not reaching for the offered gift until he had his answer.

“I do have vessel coding,” the noble smiled calmly, “and that is part of why I am courting you, though I hope the courtship will prove we are a fit in many other areas too.”

“Time will tell,” Optimus hummed as he reached to accept the gift and as per custom opened it straight away.

Optimus’ first thought was that the gift was somewhat forward of the mech, though it was acceptable and very Kanonite. “I am sure these will see good use.” Optimus carefully packed the axe shaped clasps away into his subspace.

“I thank you for your consideration,” Chalgara bowed, smiling, “I hope to see you wear the gift soon, and I wish you a pleasant dark cycle.”

“And I also wish you a pleasant dark cycle,” Optimus returned the courtesy, though he felt himself relax once he was back at Megatron’s side.

Megatron didn’t comment on anything, simply politely helped the smaller mech settle and offered to fetch some candies and a drink. Then he settled down and waved a server over to place a box on the table between them, and it was not the box of a game.

“I found this in Tesaurus as I said, and I would like your help on where it should be permanently placed,” he said, urging Optimus to open the box.

Curious Optimus gently opened the box. “Oh, wow. That is quite the find.” he did not know much about crystals but he did know how to recognise corax crystals.

“I will do my best to assist, though I know very little about the needs of such a specimen as this, and as such nothing of where it would be best suited. Where are the options you are considering?” Optimus asked, fully absorbed in the puzzle of where the blue corax crystal would flourish best.

"My gardeners have chosen three places it would flourish in, but I would be very happy if you would accompany me to survey them?" Megatron was grinning, he couldn't help it.

“Ah,” Optimus grinned as he caught on, “I would be delighted to assist you in picking out the perfect spot,” Optimus purred as he looked up from the gently floating crystal, meeting Megatron’s optics.

"I shall arrange for it then," Megatron said, calm tone somewhat in contrast to his wide grin.

"Ah, but a game, yes, what would you wish to play, dear one?"

“Hmm,” Optimus pretended to consider for a moment, allowing for the box with the crystal to be removed from the table, “Well there is this variant of Prime and Protector.”

"Oh?" Megatron leaned forward a little, quirking an optical ridge. He knew many variations, but he'd always be open to learn new or rediscover old versions.

Optimus explained, concluding with, “It should be a challenging but hopefully not too terribly long of a game.”

"Indeed, let us see what fun we can have," Megatron agreed, and rose to get a drink of his own and the gameboard.

It was a very pleasant game, Megatron thoroughly enjoyed both it and the company. He hadn't asked, of course not!, but he had teeked tension when Optimus joined him and was glad that it had disappeared as fast as it had.

Optimus greatly enjoyed himself, so much so that he almost forgot about Chalgara’s gift in his subspace.

"Ah, it is always refreshing to battle with you, dear one," Megatron settled back and checked his chronometer, "but alas I must return you to the Ambassador now. If you are ready that is?"

“It has been a very enjoyable dark cycle, one I hope we can repeat again soon, Megatron,” Optimus purred, finally using the permission to use the mech’s name when in private. “I do believe I am ready.”

"I shall arrange for our survey to happen soon," Megatron had risen and walked the step to where Optimus was sitting, now he took a comparably small, blunt fingered hand in his and gently turned it so he could kiss the plating of the palm. He carefully folded Optimus’ fingers over the kiss.

"A keepsake, dear one, so you might remember the affection I hold for you," then he helped him up and escorted him back to Jazz and Prowl, who were lounging in the company of Sunstorm and Acid Storm.

Optimus, a little stunned, but highly flattered at the kiss, pressed the hand over his spark and kept it there for the trip back to Jazz and Prowl, saying the final farewells of the orn with a slightly besotted smile.

"Well," Acid Storm purred teasingly, "someone had a good dark cycle, and speaking of that… we have to get the story another time."

Sunstorm and he hugged Optimus and said their goodbyes to all three Iaconians.

"'e was righ'," Jazz grinned at Optimus even as Prowl took his arm, "but ah think we shoul' all go 'ome ta talk o'it, hmm?"

Optimus delightedly greeted the two seekers, promising to catch up with them soon. “Indeed, it has been a long orn, but a good one,” Optimus smiled as he went along with Jazz and Prowl.

"That's good," Prowl smiled, both at Optimus' words and his expression. Besotted… it was good to see, it really was.

“We have plans for another date soon, don’t know what orn yet,” Optimus could not help but state once they were in the transport.

“Ooh, do tell?” Jazz grinned easily, anticipation easily teeked from him.

Prowl shook his helm lightly and said, “if you want to tell that is. There’s no need to divulge every detail.”

“Megatron has this beautiful floating corax crystal bud, and we are going to be looking at the three options for where to place it. His gardener already picked the areas it would do well in, so we are simply going to decide where it would look best,” Optimus grinned.

"Someone picked up on a new hobby o'yars?" Jazz teased.

"Oh? I would love to see that!" Prowl brightened with curiosity.

“Mmm, he did mention my new hobby, but no, this crystal is from when we visited Tesaurus. It is a vibrant blue. I will be sure to take a holo image when we get it placed,” Optimus assured Prowl, even as he made himself a reminder to do just that.

"Hm," Jazz hummed, still grinning cheekily, like he knew something Optimus didn't. He might at that, but he wasn't saying!

"Thank you, though perhaps it will be placed so I might go see it myself one orn," Prowl said wistfully.

“It might be, or depending on how things go I might be able to invite you to see in person,” Optimus hummed, considering the idea and feeling a burst of excitement at the possibility.

"If that becomes the case I'd be delighted with an invitation," Prowl said gravely, "but only if it comes naturally."

"Speakin' off, wha' did noble Chalgara wan' eith ya?" Jazz broke out of his mood and frowned slightly, "he the las' o'ya sutors?"

“Ah,” Optimus’ demeanour changed immediately at the mention of the noble, becoming a lot more uncertain and slightly withdrawn.

“Yes, he is. He also has Vessel coding. He gave me this.” Optimus handed over the box that he had just pulled out of his subspace, without any compunctions whatsoever.

"Huh," Jazz took the box and looked doubtful at the contents, "'is a cloak clasp? Pretty."

"The design is a bit forward," Prowl was looking at Optimus though, not at the gift, "you don't like him, do you?"

“I don’t know. His entire demeanour came across as rather forward, but not… ah,” Optimus paused as he struggled to articulate what he had felt. “It felt more like he was only doing this because of the coding.”

"He might just not have the resources to know you as the Warlord does," Prowl spoke slowly.

"Bu' ah'd say lisn' ta ya tank," Jazz said with some emphasis.

“I will give him a chance, but if I still feel this way by the end of the first date then I will let him know. The other mech, the merchant, you know the one Prowl. That felt more personal, personable than this did. So I don’t think it would only be a matter of lack of resources,” Optimus huffed, he accepted that there was no chance it could have worked, so he had done what was best for both of them at that time.

"Ya are a good mech, ya know, Op?" Jazz smiled at him and shook his helm, "but ya do that, mech, dun give 'im a momen' longer than ya wanna!"

“It will also help make others see that I am taking the courting seriously and not simply accepting Megatron because of who he is,” Optimus frowned, as if he would! This was for his spark, for the rest of both their existence, it was not something to step into lightly, and that was exactly the reason he was taking the courting very seriously.

"That is true," Prowl murmured softly, "though there will always be evil glossa wagging."

“That is why Megatron is adhering very strictly to the courting traditions, so there is no legitimate word against it,” Optimus gave a rueful smile.

"Oh? So ya'd like it ta go faster?" Jazz teased, but further conversation was broken up by the transport reaching home.

It was late, or rather very, very early and they did have to get a bit of recharge in!

Chapter Text

It was early the next orn that a messenger arrived with a letterpad from Chalgara, inviting Optimus to a celebration play at an upscale playhouse.

The saving grace for Optimus’ mood was that the play was one that he had been meaning to watch. He was still tired from the previous darkcycle, and now he needed to go out and get a cloak that he could affix the gifted clasp to. At least he had not had any other plans for the orn.

Prowl helped Optimus and Bumblebee who had a date too, though he didn't know where, only that Blitzwing had gifted him a fine set of half cape and loincloth to wear.

Optimus found he was not overly fond of cloaks, though he was happy with the sweeping sliver one he ended up with, he found they hid the frame too much.

The establishment was almost entirely exclusive to nobles, not by the entrance being barred to others, but more in where it was, the style, pretty much everything and it made Optimus feel somewhat uncomfortable and actually glad he could somewhat hide in his cloak.

“Optimus, I am so glad you could come,” Chalgara greeted the mech with genuine pleasure in his field, hands out in greeting.

“It was somewhat tight notice,” Optimus greeted the noble in turn, doing his absolute best to keep any of his misgivings out of his fields. Chalgara was polite and pleasant. He was also decked out in jewellery with a cloak of his own. It felt like too much, he much preferred the simpler style that Megatron seemed to favour.

“I apologise for that, but this was the last night of this play in this venue,” Chalgara was honest in his apology though he didn’t really see it as a bad thing.

“Ah, well we are here now. I have not yet seen this play, though it has been on my list of plays to watch,” Optimus tried for conversation, hoping that he would be able to settle into it all.

“It is a very good story, please, let me escort you to our seats,” Chalgara offered an arm.

“Thank you,” Optimus accepted the arm, it was fine, but it did not feel like when Megatron did this. On their date to the gardens where Megatron had offered his arm, it had felt intimate and nice. This felt more like… he did not know what, but it did not feel the same.

Chalgara led them to a balcony seat, it was only for them and there were already refreshments set up and a server at the side of the refreshment table wearing an emblem that showed he was from Chalgara’s own staff.

Optimus dipped his helm in greeting to the servant like how he would greet or interact with the servants and other workers within Darkmount, though he allowed himself to be guided to his seat.

The server didn’t react to the greeting, keeping his optics down cast. Chalgara carefully guided Optimus to the seat made for him, raised so he was on par with himself once seated.

“Do you want some fuel now?” he asked politely, ready to beckon to the servant if the answer was positive.

“Ah yes, I would like something,” Optimus agreed, though he was internally frowning at that the server was seemingly not allowed even small interactions outside of their job.

A wave of his hand made the server collect a plate full of fuel, a chalice and a carafe of a bright energon. He silently approached to set it beside Optimus' chair and then withdrew to fill one for his Lord.

"I hope the selection is to your liking," Chalgara purred.

Optimus looked the selection over and found it was a rather general selection, with some things he did enjoy but also some things he did not care so much for. Chalgara clearly did not know much about him at all.

“I am sure it will be enjoyed,” Optimus replied diplomatically, selecting one of the things he did like to sample first. The quality was certainly amazing.

"I am glad," Chalgara settled back in his chair, and began explaining the different actors until the play started.

Optimus was grateful for when the play actually started, he had not wanted, nor needed to know nearly so much about what should be private lives of the actors, and he was not so shallow to simply choose to watch a play based on who was acting it. At least the play itself was engaging, and even the fuel items that he normally would not choose were nice enough.

Chalgara naturally enjoyed the show and felt pleased enough that his guest enjoyed it too, at least after a fashion. He did sense an undercurrent of some sort, but thought, hoped?, that it was simply because he wasn’t used to moving in circles this high. Court was not the same, the Warlord was far more straight strutted than the Nobility. Annoying but, eh, he did not truely interfere with them as long as they kept within the law.

By the time the play was over Optimus had seen enough, having looked around at the other patrons of this venue. He did note that the servers did not appear mistreated, but they were also clearly only there to do their job and nothing else. It uncomfortably reminded him of the segregation rampant in Iacon. It was not that bad but could become so if left unchecked. Chalgara himself appeared perfectly comfortable with this, but then, Optimus thought a little bitterly, ‘he was on the good end of it’.

Status seemed to mean everything here and Optimus had the feeling that his friends would only be tolerated.

Still in the privacy of the box Optimus made his decision, he would let Chalgara know before they parted. But considering the Kaonite way he felt a few witnesses would be appropriate.

Chalgara immediately became aware that Optimus was not precisely happy when the show was over. He couldn’t say why, it had seemed like he enjoyed both the show and the fuel. He made some small talk and then offered his arm to escort the smaller mech down to the social that was usual after a theatre.

Optimus accepted the arm, it was not that he disliked Chalgara as a mech, but his culture was not for him.

Once they were back down in the lobby, but before they were right in the thick of the gathered mecha Optimus pulled away.

“I thank you for the invitation here this orn, Chalgara, it has been an enlightening experience. However I feel this is where we must part ways. This has allowed me a glimpse into your life and culture. I don’t think I can live this way, not with where I have come from. Not and keep what I have learned to value. I thank you for your time and efforts and wish you the best for your future whatever that may bring,” Optimus made himself get it out in one go before he lost his nerve.

Chalgara was stunned, he had not thought that the sense of unhappiness was that… Bad? And he certainly had no idea what the mech meant with culture, as far as he knew he didn’t differ massively from how the Warlord did things. Hm, perhaps it was the rank thing, only, and he couldn’t hardly think that badly of the mech when he teeked so honest.

“I see,” he spoke slowly, “I am sad you see it that way, but I am glad for your honesty.”

“You are a good mech and I do hope you do find someone to live this life with you,” Optimus did believe that, but he also believed that the nobility here lived on the edge of what Decepticons morally stood for. He could not do that.

“Thank you,” Chalgara smiled, that also teeked honestly and confirmed for him that the mech really did see something between them that he couldn’t. It was too bad. Who knew when he would meet another Pilot…

“Let me escort you out to a transport.”

“Thank you,” Optimus returned the smile, if a bit sadly, he felt bad having to do this, but only one could win his spark, and the life of the nobility was clearly not for him. The thought of the kiss Megatron had given him helped strengthen his resolve and push away some of the negative feelings. He did have someone waiting with affection for him.

Chapter Text

An ornate pad arrived along with an equally ornate invitation from general Blitzwing. The first was for Optimus alone and the second was a very formally worded invitation to all of them to attend the Arena in the coming orn, in the Warlord’s private box. It emphasised their participation, though especially that of Bumblebee.

The minibot seemed… not startled but shocked and unable to articulate anything proper except for ‘we have to go!’.

Optimus smiled as he read the invitation for himself alone, he was excited for the date. But he was also excited for the other closer event, he knew what it would be. He was seriously hoping that Bumblebee liked the upgraded stingers. He emphatically backed Bumblebee up saying they definitely needed to be there for this.

There had been no need for the emphasis from either mech since Jazz had no inclination to say no. And a good idea of what was about to happen that the emphasis only confirmed. He arranged for a detailing for all of them and pulled Ratchet aside for a long talk. Bulkhead hovered around Bumblebee like a nervous older brother and the main invitee himself walked around like he didn’t quite trust the world to be real.

It was good it was only one recharge cycle and a half orn till the event! But then again, Blitzwing knew Bumblebee very well by now…

Chapter Text

“Optimus Prime,” the voice was deep with a hoarse quality to it.

“Yes?” Optimus tilted his helm to meet the optics of the mech calling him, curious as to what this would be.

“I don’t think I have officially introduced myself,” the green and purple mech rasped, “I am Hook, Ratchet’s suitor. Well, hehe, one of them, but that isn’t the point. I heard you needed a coding check, I’d like you to come by the clinic next orn. If you have time.”

The ‘if you have time’ sounded more like a threat than a question.

“Ah, I have heard of you and your brothers. It is nice to finally meet you,” Optimus smiled before pretending to consider, “I do have a fairly busy schedule, however I do believe I can make time next orn. It is not that I have any concerns about my coding, but rather I fear there are gaps in my records that need filling.”

“Good, I will see you after first meal, I’ll ask Ratchet to bring you,” Hook didn’t wait for confirmation, then again he knew his medic Intended so he really didn’t have to worry about the mech arriving on time, if he had to be frogmarched there or not.

Optimus watched the Decepticon medic with some bemusement, but he thought he could see a hint of why Ratchet liked the mech. Continuing on Optimus easily found Sunstorm and Acid Storm. Megatron would be arriving later, and settled next to them.

“Hey Optimus,” Acid Storm grinned at him, “I hear there has been a development… hmm?”

Sunstorm snickered, and handed Optimus a chalice of sweet energon without adding anything.

Optimus accepted the chalice and took a sip before replying.

“A few things have happened, what is it that you heard?” Optimus liked to keep on top of what the rumours were saying, he also liked to keep his friends straight on the actual truth.

“You are down to one suitor and that one is the Warlord?” Acid Storm said succinctly.

“I would like to know what it was you didn’t like about Chalgara,” Sunstorm said, “I mean, I think I get it, but still.”

“It is not Chalgara himself that I had issue with, it is the Kaonite noble culture. It feels kinda segregated from the rest of Kaon and… You know how in Darkmount or here,” Optimus paused and nodded in greeting to a passing server, being a few mech to serve there were a few working here this orn, “You can greet the servers and servants, any of the workers, and they will greet you in return. The nobles don’t do that. It is small things like that. And I can’t see myself living that way.”

“I thought so,” Sunstorm nodded, Acid Storm hummed his own agreement to the assessment, “not all nobles and all that, but they do… they are disconnected in some way. I think that’s why the Warlord is so careful about not giving them too much power here. In Vos it’s different, there is a heavy demand on those with rank to earn their privileges. They are rich, they have more, but they also have to give exponentially more back and they have to serve Vos or they will lose rank, riches and power. And Tesaurus… could you even imagine them have nobles the way Kaon and Vos have them?”

“Yeah. In some ways the Nobles reminded me a little bit of the higher castes in Iacon, nowhere near that bad, but… I am glad they are kept in check here, or else it could become bad. It was not a pleasant feeling. But they are good mech, at least Chalgara is. I just don’t fit in his life,” Optimus nodded glad he could talk about this with these two, knowing they would listen and not simply jump to conclusions.

“He’s not bad, no, probably because he’s aware how his coding will make his finding a mate hard,” Acid Storm hummed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps, but his family line has always been fair, if removed, from Kaonite society,” Sunstorm said, then shook his helm, “things are not always easy even if they seem so. Imagine growing up like that, it wouldn’t be easy to try and fit into another culture entirely. It goes both ways, Optimus couldn’t fit in his, but perhaps he’d have just as much difficulty fitting in Optimus’ culture.”

“Exactly, and I would not ask someone to change for me, and there is only so far I will go before I know I will be unhappy. The culture difference made it an impossible match,” Optimus nodded, “The play we want to see though, now that was well worth seeing!”

“I understand,” Sunstorm nodded, smiling at Optimus. He understood and he very much approved!

“Oh, well, then tell of the play! Let’s not dwell on what shouldn’t be changed, instead… who was the lead actor, or singer? Tell!” Acid Storm dramatically lifted his hands, fingers spread and nearly clipped a server with his wings, “Triad! I am sorry, here let me help,” he was up and supported the tray before the mech could fall trying to keep it balanced.

Optimus smiled gratefully at Sunstorm, he knew he could count on him understanding. He waited until Acid Storm was settled again before going into a recount of the play.

"Optimus, Sunstorm, Acid Storm," the deep voice was warm as it carefully broke in on a pause in their conversation. They had moved on from the play to discussing the ongoing matches in the Arena.

"Lord Megatron," Sunstorm smiled, wings flicking down in a stance of respect.

"Warlord," Acid Storm greeted similarly, wings held lower though.

Optimus stood and stepped closer to greet Megatron.

“My lord Megatron,” Optimus greeted with a slight teasing edge to his tone and warm affection in his fields.

"Mm, that isn't a bad way to be greeted, dear one, but we are not precisely in a public area," Megatron rumbled back, teasing in his own tone.

Optimus laughed and grinned, “I thank you for the invitation this orn. Bumblebee is beside himself with excitement. I just hope the gifts are well received.”

"We all just hope he'll say yes, finally!" Acid Storm piped up before Megatron could speak.

Sunstorm tried to smother a laugh but the Warlord didn't bother and his deep laugh rang out easily.

“I am pretty sure he will, he does know what this is. He fully understood when he accepted the shortsword. Bumblebee has also only had good things to say since finally accepting the first date,” Optimus hummed, deciding to close the last distance and stand at Megatron’s side.

"And my General has been much happier too," Megatron sobered, smiling down at the smaller mech, "I understand the sentiment."

"Aww, ouch! What was that for?" Acid Storm pouted at Sunstorm who made a rude gesture with his wings.

“I believe I can understand the sentiment as well. It also appears that I will be getting that coding check. Medic Hook has booked me in for next orn,” Optimus decided to share, letting Sunstorm and Acid Storm know at the same time.

"Booked you, huh," Megatron's smile became a smirk, "he informed you that he expected your arrival, I gather?"

"Optimus, tell him to exchange information with both Vos and Tesaurus too," Sunstorm commented thoughtfully, "if this is a matter of public record you might as well get all angles covered."

“He did first ask if I was free next orn, but yes. And it is both for public record as well as finding out if there is anything else in my coding that Ratchet has not identified. Technically I am a Warbuild, so there could be some things… I don’t know, like ah… latent coding for fangs or something?” Optimus explained, wondering what it would be like to have sharp denta.

"Hm, I doubt he'd have changed the time unless you'd been dying, and then only to save you before doing the check," Megatron said with doure amusement, "he doesn't take no for an answer very often."

"You would be cute with fangs," Sunstorm tilted his helm at Optimus, opticking him critically, "interesting prospect. Does your medic think you might have artificially suppressed coding?"

"That's a horrific thought, thank you, Sun'!" Acid Storm shuddered and it wasn't fake.

“We haven’t dared speculate much. But if I do have any inactive coding of the sort I will get the choice to have it activated. Depending on what it is I might go ahead,” Optimus replied consideringly, “I am simply glad that our date is not until the orn after.”

"Date?" Acid Storm perked right up and Sunstorm hid his faceplates in a hand.

"Yes, date," Megatron said with mild amusement, "though if you find the need for us to move it I will not protest. Your health is infinitely more important."

“It is just a coding check. If they want to make any changes that have any risks involved I will ask that they be done at a later date, after full consideration of the need for the coding change and what the risks are and how to mitigate them. If there is no risk then I may allow it then and there,” Optimus stated decisively.

"I accept your choices," Megatron nodded gravely.

"Speaking of choice, when will the General begin?" Sunstorm asked, just to break up the seriousness a little.

“I would imagine it would be soon,” Optimus turned so he could look out over the arena. There were quite a few mech in the stands, many who could come wanting to witness the end of the courtship the General had held out so long for.

"After mid orn meal, he's arranged something special for Bumblebee," Megatron rumbled, "that is the reason for my own lateness, he asked me to make sure it arrived safely."

“General Blitzwing truly is aiming to make this a very special orn for them both,” Optimus noted, impressed. It was not far from mid orn meal as it was.

"He feels this should be a fitting end to a complicated courtship and a spectacular beginning to a long life together," Megatron said it a little dryly, "he's been planning it for a while now."

"The General is thorough, if at times erratic," Sunstorm said with amusement.

“Well at least this is the end of all the plans and such. A happy ending and a happy couple, should be at least,” Optimus smiled, thinking about how everyone might feel in the later stages of their courtship, though he did not intend to make Megatron work nearly as hard as Blitzwing had to, nor wait nearly as long.

"And I am happy for them, while also grateful that this is the end of it," Megatron rumbled with more of that dry mirth.

"I think everyone is, bar those that revel in drama," Acid Storm pointed out with a snigger.

“Indeed,” Optimus replied dryly with a shake of his helm, he was not fond of too much drama.
“I believe we should get ourselves properly settled.”

"Ah yes, I wished to ask if you'd like to sit with me for a bit?" Megatron smiled down at Optimus again, allowing his field to teek mildly hopeful.

Acid Storm giggled low, prompting Sunstorm to tweak his wing tip.

“I would be delighted,” Optimus purred happily, not that he had doubted the invitation would come, but still very pleased. He ignored Sunstorm and Acid Storm, they knew what it was like having been there in the past vorn themselves.

Megatron offered his arm and led the other to his seat, this time with a far more fitting seat beside it.

"This should be comfortable for you," he frowned at it, "and more comfortable to get onto."

“This is certainly an improvement, thank you,” Optimus smiled as he managed to settle without assistance. “So I take it that you know Hook well then?”

"Yes, he is an excellent medic, though his berthside manners are at best lacklustre. He and his brothers are my battlefield medical and construction team," Megatron settled himself, looking thoughtful, "I think Hook’s rank is the equivalent of an Autobot CMO?"

“Mmm, yes that sounds like it would be right,” Optimus nodded thinking back over how the Autobot rank system worked. “He is the same rank as Ratchet then, at least if Ratchet had ever entered military service. He does not talk much about his past or how or why he was sent here.”

"Your medic is a special one. He knows a lot of etiquette, I doubt his past holds only the rank of CMO,” Megatron mused thoughtfully, “I can understand how he attracted Hook and where Hook goes his brothers follow. I commend him for being able to handle them.”

“Mmm,” Optimus hummed, “I am not really surprised that he can handle them. I believe that if Primus or Unicron were to take avatars and walk amongst us, that he would treat them just the same as he does anyone else. Ratchet might have a temper, but he truly does care.”

“That would be an interesting thing to see,” Megatron rumbled with amusement, “though I hope we can do with less. In the end the fact that he, and Hook, works to keep us alive and healthy means more than if they are polite while doing so. Besides, Hook is caring if it’s a little he has to treat, he simply just doesn't suffer the stupid behaviour of grown mechs.”

“Ratchet is the same there too. While we were staying with Gashfang’s family one of the littles there had an accident. Wheeljack was actually the one to initially treat the little. But Ratchet was very gentle as he inspected Wheeljack’s work and finished the treatment. He has also since been testing Wheeljack’s medical knowledge,” Optimus tilted his helm and optics dimmed a little as he recalled the aftermath of the situation. They had all been surprised at how medically knowledgeable Wheeljack was.

"Mmm, fitting that they should court then," Megatron hummed thoughtfully, "I have not seen the engineer for some time, did he go back to Vos or is he hiding?"

“I would not call it hiding, more he has been moping. Has been since the incident with Starscream in Tesarus. He is actually going to head out to Vos in another Decaorn. The science team there have expressed interest in having him work with them,” Optimus sighed, hoping that things would work out for Wheeljack.

"I don't understand why, was he not satisfied that justice was done?" Megatron frowned a little, "I assure you that any mech would have seen similar punishment."

“None of us have been able to get much out of him, but I do know that he was quite upset that Starscream would attack anyone. I think that might be part of it, he really did enjoy talking science with Starscream whenever he could get a chance,” Optimus huffed, that was the best guess anyone had been able to come with. “He is excited to be going back to Vos.”

"That at least is good, though I hope he will get used to our ways. While attacks and fighting at parties or in the streets are not legal and the arena takes most… we are not as passive as most Autobots," Megatron rumbled thoughtfully, "it has caused issues with Ambassadors and ambassadorial staff before."

“I don’t think that is quite it either. It… I really don’t know, but it almost seems like he took it personally that Strascream would do such, rather than just anyone. I could be reading it wrong, but…” Optimus shook his helm, “Anyway, the invitation back to Vos has helped cheer him up at least a little.”

"... You think he holds affection for the Winglord?" Megatron was… not shocked precisely, but close. Starscream was difficult at best in his experience.

"Hm, that will be interesting then…"

“...Possible, I was more thinking as a science partner, but with Wheeljack that could be closely tied anyway. If that is the case I believe it best to let them figure it out,” Optimus shrugged, surprised, but also in a way not at the question.

"Perhaps we should simply let them figure it out and let any result come as a pleasant surprise," Megatron smiled crookedly, "instead, I must ask you if you have had time to rest. These last few orn have been quite packed with experiences. You will tell me if our plans are too much, won't you?"

“I will,” Optimus promised, turning to face Megatron, a hand moving to rest on Megatron’s arm where it lay on the armrest, “And somehow I have managed some rest between each orn. Though I must also add I find my time with you relaxing and enjoyable. I tend to find it easier to recharge after.”

"Good," Megatron covered the small blue hand with his own, that one word filling the silence as he looked into blue optics and smiled. The sentiment was returned on his side but he didn't feel the need to say it.

The moment was interrupted when Optimus noticed a server waiting patiently for their attention, “Oh right, I have not ordered for mid orn meal yet.”

"Best do so then," Megatron didn't let go of the hand though, just resting his own over it and smiling to himself.

Optimus let Megatron keep his hand as he gave his order to the server so it would be able to be ready in time for midorn meal.

“I take it that you have already ordered then?” Optimus inquired after he was done.

"Yes, or perhaps more fairly said it was done for me," Megatron rumbled and then chuckled, "I was not sure when I would be able to arrive, only that it would be before Blitzwing took to the arena."

“Mmm, so it was only practical to have your order sent on ahead,” Optimus nodded. “As fortune has it you managed to make it in plenty of time though.”

"Indeed, a great fortune," Megatron carefully lifted the trapped hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, "my great fortune!"

“Ah, I would say my fortune as well,” Optimus felt somewhat flustered at the kiss, but quite pleased.

"I consider myself beyond lucky then," Megatron's smile was maybe just a tad sly, but not maliciously so.

Optimus chuckled and smiled, “You are quite the flatter.”

"Only when I can be honest," Megatron's smile became a grin, "and you make it easy, there are so many things to compliment you on."

“I have been given cause to wonder about the Nobles here, their place in Kaonite society,” Optimus decided to bring up something that had been bothering him. His research had told him little about them either.

"Ask and I shall attempt to answer," Megatron turned serious at once, but not short or seeming to reject the topic.

“I have not been finding much information on them in my research. But my date with Chalgara reminded me of the Autobot elite, just nowhere near as bad, but elements were there. I simply wonder what they do for society and what measures are in place to ensure they don’t cross lines that should not be crossed?” Optimus asked, glancing up at Megatron.

He trusted Megatron, and he knew Chalgara was a good mech, but culture could have even the best mech hurt others unknowingly. And what he saw suggested that the nobles were toeing that line.

"Hmm, the noble lines of Kaon stem from the tribal leaders of old. Originally they received their titles in an effort to keep the tribes close and prevent infighting. They sat on a council that advised the Warlord. As time went on they got more and more distant with the mechs they represented and the council was phased out, but the titles stayed," Megatron huffed thoughtfully, "think of them as wealthy merchants. And they answer to the laws the same as all others, even if they might think differently. My line has never been tolerant of abuse of the people. We gave them their titles and wealth, if needed we will take both back."

“A remnant of an older time,” Optimus nodded, satisfied. Oh he knew that something might have to be done to nudge the nobles back into closer alignment with the rest of Kaon. But he did not fear that they would go too far. At least not without serious consequences. “I can’t say I am happy with the culture the nobles have cultivated, nor how distant they are. However I am content that there is a balance struck and they know the lines and the laws.”

"It is not ideal," Megatron agreed readily, "we are attempting to get the younger generations more… involved. In Kaon, in social circles outside of the noble lines. It is debatable how effective we are as of yet."

“It is a delicate issue. But I am glad that you are doing something about it before it becomes out of control,” Optimus easily stated. It was relieving hearing that it was not simply a stagnant issue.

"It would be foolish indeed to invite such an issue to become a rust infection," Megatron smiled grimly, "and no matter what they are Kaonite, it would be a terrible waste if we needed to treat them as rust infections are treated."

“Indeed. You say to think of them like merchants, perhaps encourage them to learn a trade and apprentice amongst the established guilds?” Optimus mused, “If they can only apprentice under an established guild master, it might speak to their sense of rank, while also encouraging them outside of their current circles?”

"Hmm, that is an idea…" Megatron hummed thoughtfully, "the question is how to sell it right, so that they do not close ranks."

“Hmm, that is a tricky problem…” Optimus hummed, mulling it over, “What of weapons making? The idea of crafting a personal weapon, either display or for battle, or crafting one for the one they court, with their own hands. It would have powerful appeal. And later branch to other crafts from that point?”

"That is certainly something to sell the younger generation on, yes, I could see that catching on," Megatron nodded, still thoughtful.

Optimus smiled, it was only just ideas for now, but if Megatron could see it possibly working, then there was a chance for good change. He decided it was best to change the subject now though. This moment was not for work.

“So are there going to be other displays?” Optimus asked, looking out at some activity starting in the arena.

"Not any for courting, Blitzwing… I do not know how much you follow the gossip boards?" Megatron questioned with some amusement.

“Jazz follows them almost religiously. But I can’t say I have had much time to pay much attention to that recently,” Optimus shrugged, it could be a good source of information. But also one of misinformation, one had to be careful about where and who the gossip came from.

"Let's just say that a certain General and his pining has been front and centre for vorn, absolutely no one is going to risk Bumblebee paying attention to anyone but him," Megatron rumbled that with dry amusement.

“Ah, of course,” Optimus grinned, “Not that Bumblebee would look elsewhere at this point, but their consideration is surely appreciated.”

"I wonder what will take over their spot in the gossip," Megatron mused just as dryly, glancing sideways at his smaller companion.

“We already have our own spot,” Optimus replied amused, “Then again gossip is another thing that can be used to your advantage.” He was quite sure that Megatron would already be well aware of the advantages of using gossip just right.

"Mmm," Megatron agreed, derma curling in a half smile. In a way he was testing the other. He had no qualms about Optimus’ intelligence, but his political acuity was untried, unknown, for the most part.

"It's always interesting to see what is deemed worthy of interest."

“Very much so, it can also show the general mood of a population,” Optimus nodded. Jazz, Sunstorm and Acid Storm had all been teaching him a lot in that regard. Keeping an audio to the ground, so to speak, could help one learn a lot and had helped them integrate that much more smoothly. Vos was a perfect example there.

"Indeed, I don't think the mood towards Iacon will keep being as positive if Jazz stops as Ambassador," Megatron rumbled softly, "depending on what sort of mech they send after."

“I believe that any mech sent after will have to work hard to earn the positive attitude Jazz has earned. It will also greatly depend on how Jazz leaves the post. If he retires it will be easier than if he was removed for almost any reason,” Optimus frowned at the thought. “Their initial introduction and attitude will also have a large impact.”

"There is not the greatest of hope that they will do as well by the position again," or that they would want to. Megatron was very certain that Jazz had only escaped consequences up till now because he was good at hiding things. Some things couldn't be hidden though, but that had been discussed already.

"I would be satisfied with one that kept to himself if I cannot have another Jazz."

Optimus hummed and nodded, “Yes, and the likelihood of getting another like Jazz… It really is not high. That said, Iacon does send those who do not fit the mould here, increasing the chances of getting another with the attitude that Jazz has.”

"Yes, but is that because of Jazz or because they consider an actual functioning relationship with us useless?" Megatron mused, "that Jazz doesn't even know the answer is… hm, interesting, is it not?"

“It is very interesting, but also only something the decision makers in Iacon know the truth of. Or perhaps not even they, not fully. If on the odd occasion the Gods take interest and give a nudge,” Optimus replied thoughtfully, “We could hope that Jazz gets to retain his position. That will likely depend on how the information gets to Iacon if it can not be kept from them.”

"Mm, or if it is one too many perceived transgressions," Megatron conceded, "that is however an interesting notion, that perhaps our Gods have a hand in this…"

“Only one of many possibilities. But that is the thing with possibilities, they are possible. This is one that can never be ruled out either,” Optimus had accepted that one could never know how much or little influence the Gods had had in their life, only thing they could be sure of was that the Gods were watching them and loved them.

"One could wish we still had some of the artefacts of the first thirteen. Supposedly some of them made it possible to commune with the Gods," Megatron smiled, "if ever the Electrum City is found… ah well, let's find a lighter subject for fueling?"

“Yes… ah, do you know if it is true that Flarelight, one of the Skylord’s mates, is sparked?” Optimus decided to change to a rumour he had heard that was purely positive.

"Well, Thundercracker hasn't announced anything yet," Megatron smirked, "but he's cancelled a few things lately. It isn't unlikely. I would welcome it certainly!"

“I am sure they would be amazing creators. Hmm I did also hear about an increase in construction projects in Vos around a new safety initiative,” Optimus grinned, he had not heard anything specific but he had a feeling it was the energy barriers for the comfort and safety of grounders in Vos.

"Yes, I heard about that too, from the Skylord's derma," Megatron lifted an optical ridge at Optimus’ grin, "you do tend to get the audio of the powerful, dear one, you could be dangerous if it wasn't for the kindness of your spark."

“I was specifically asked if there was anything I could think of to encourage grounders to Vos,” Optimus shrugged, “However I doubt any of the current leaders are so foolish as to accept dangerous suggestions, no matter how inocciously they are presented.”

"You might be right, and I certainly hope you are," Megatron didn't hide that he was flattered, "but you sell yourself short, Thundercracker won't ask just anyone, grounder or windkin, for advice."

“Well it was during his and my game, the first one,” Optimus admitted, still not seeing anything that special. He knew that game had only happened because Thundercracker had learnt about his games with Megatron.

"If you had had to work yourself up from the ground, you would still have reached our audios. This was just faster," Megatron said a bit sternly, "intelligence and abilities are recognised here."

Optimus looked up meeting Megatron’s optics, a little startled at the change in tone. “I am hardly the only one with intelligence around, circumstances, a bit of skill and a bit of luck are what got me attention in the first place. Having it, that makes others pay attention and thus makes it easier to get more. I am simply honoured that my opinion is being asked and any of my suggestions being made use of,” Optimus replied, though he was a little unsure about what had caused the change.

"Hm, let us agree to disagree," an optical ridge rose at the other's assessment of himself, "and perhaps in time I will be able to convince you of my point of view."

“Perhaps,” Optimus allowed, still not quite sure what it was about.

Further conversation was stalled as mid orn meal was served.

Chapter Text

The meal was accompanied with pleasant small talk and the two seekers moved over to be able to converse with Optimus and Megatron, followed by a nervous Bumblebee. Not that the yellow minibot stayed long, he flitted about the space like a confined mechabutterfly.

And then! Then it was time for the big event of the orn…

“Ooh, it is very easy to see Blitzwing is going all out for this,” Optimus hummed, it was obvious that the purple and tan mech had had a full repaint and detailing for this. The colours were the same, but the vibrancy, the crips lines. Optimus snuck a glance at Megatron and wondered just how far he would go in his displays.

"He'd better be," Acid Storm said with sympathetic amusement in his tone as he watched Bumblebee fidget in front of the force field.

Sunstorm hummed and Megatron chuckled in agreement.

It was a very impressive display, though Optimus found himself watching Bumblebee as much as Blitzwing. Bumblebee was fixated on the display, he was also almost vibrating in place as if he simply could not keep still, but did not want to move and miss anything.

Once it was over the force field was shut off. Both seekers bolted upright in shock when Bumblebee stepped back a few paces and then took a running leap into empty air. No one had to worry though, Blitzwing caught him with a whoop that could only come from his loud and brash 'crazy' personality.

Optimus chuckled, not having even twitched, he was not surprised that Bumblebee would do that, and he had had no fear of Blitzwing failing to catch him. “They are certainly a matched pair alright.”

"At this point that should not surprise anyone," Megatron laughed, though he too had tensed when the minibot jumped.

Any further conversation was interrupted by an approving roar going up from the audience of the arena.

Down on the sands Bumblebee had been presented with the final gift.

Now Optimus did shift, leaning closer, before remembering the screens and activating his to see how Bumblebee reacted. He was just in time to see Bumblebee shake off the initial shock and accept one of the pair to examine properly.

A medic came onto the arena sands and then pandemonium broke out. Bumblebee had turned to the medic holding out his arms. No one needed to hear to understand that he had accepted…

Optimus leaned back in his seat again, relaxing, “Seems he likes them.”

"Seems so," Megatron rumbled, tone almost a growl, but a pleased one. Just as the fang baring grin gracing his faceplate was a pleased one despite the almost feral look.

"Finally!" Acid Storm clapped his hands, wings up and mirrored by Sunstorm's.

It did not take overly long for the medic to detach the original stingers and a little fiddling to make everything fit neatly, but soon enough the new ones were in place. Optimus watched, waiting as the medic finally stepped back and Bumblebee took a moment before he transformed his hands.

Blitzwing barely managed to wait till the end of the transformation before he swooped in, lifted Bumblebee into a passionate kiss and well, a bit of groping, though it was clear he respected Bumblebee's opinion on public interfacing.

The crowd went mad again, the pandemonium of noise reaching heights that could nearly deafen mechs.

While everyone was distracted, and quite possibly high on the emotions of the event, Optimus turned towards Megatron, paused a moment just looking at him, but before he could lose his nerve Optimus pushed himself up and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his cheek guard.

Whipping his helm around Megatron came face plate to face plate with Optimus. The feral grin turned into an approving smirk. But instead of pressing his luck he gently freed a small hand and kissed the palm again.

Optimus flushed at the palm kiss, he for some reason found it somewhat intimate, but he gave Megatron a warm smile before he settled back again.

No one caught the byplay, but for the two it was for. Acid Storm did catch their expressions though and looked questioningly at Optimus.

Optimus simply grinned but said nothing. He might tell later, if he felt like it.

Chapter Text

Early the next orn saw Optimus up early nursing a cube dusted with cadmium and a plate of gels, fighting the urge to go back to berth.

"Ah good you are up," Ratchet sat down beside the other, a cube of hot, dark blue energon in hand, "I wouldn't have liked to drag you out of berth."

“I would not want to upset your court mate. Besides I am interested in what this may reveal,” Optimus hummed before taking a large sip of his energon.

"Hm," Ratchet left it at that and they fuelled in companionable silence until it was time to leave.

It wasn't even a long trip and they were ushered to a private room at once upon arrival.

Optimus settled as instructed, laying on the medical berth next to a set up of monitoring and diagnostic equipment.

"Ports," Hook barked and set to work connecting equipment and setting up scanners. He did it in a wordless, concentrated way that did not invite interruptions, occasionally broken by sharp questions for Ratchet that were answered just as sharply.

Optimus obeyed and otherwise basically lay there, letting them in via medical access subroutines. He understood next to nothing of what little was said through it all.

"There!" Hook pointed to a screen and waved Ratchet over, "this is the pilot code. A lot of small mechs have partials of it, like a lot of big fliers have partials of vessel coding. This is complete though, just as you were told."

"Hum, and this?" Ratchet asked, pointing to other bits of highlighted coding.

"Latent and partial Warbuild coding."

“Latent?” Optimus finally piped up, curious, though he otherwise remained still. He did not even attempt to look at the screen, knowing he would not be able to make sense of it.

"Latent, complete but inactive coding. Ratc' what is that?" Hook answered and asked irritably.

"... Lock coding," Ratchet's voice was tight, anger barely suppressed.

"Ah, thought so," Hook said blandly.

“Can it be removed, or deactivated? And are there any risks in doing so?” Optimus asked, very much wanting to know what it could be locking away.

"Claws and fangs… hum, this is something with flight… this is armour bulk. Huh, they did a number on you!" Hook poured over the coding for a bit, mumbling things to himself, "you can have all of it activated, but not at one time… I'd start with the physically altering things."

"You'll get taller, armour ticker and get some pointy bits," Ratchet impatiently translated, "it'll be uncomfortable but not too bad… and we're only talking about a metre if I read this right?"

"One or two," Hook agreed.

“I do want it active. However I do have a date next orn and I want to be sure I will be fine for that,” Optimus stated firmly, he did not want to have to send a message to Megatron to reschedule, not at this point.

"...claws and fangs?" Hook asked Ratchet.

Ratchet huffed and indicated Optimus with a stabbing-like pointing motion.

"Uh," Hook turned to Optimus, "I can free the coding for claws and fangs. It will make you hungry but not sick or mess with your gyros."

“Hmm, if you are certain that there is no risk of side effects other than hunger, then yes I approve of you unlocking both now,” Optimus stated, while Hook was actually paying attention to his response.

"Of course I'm certain! It's coding for protractible claws anyway, so you won't have much issue learning not to use them," Hook muttered irritatedly even as he began removing the lock coding on the claws and set the fang coding active instead of dormant.

Ratchet facepalmed behind his back, but there was a faint trace of a smile on his derma.

Optimus did not bother trying to tell Hook that he did not doubt him, it would likely fall on deaf audios anyway. He did catch Ratchet’s expression and knew he had caught his actual meaning.

A few breem of silently working and Hook stepped back with a satisfied expression.

"There, done. Give it a few orn before you get anything more done, and have a lot of additive heavy fuel this orn. You should see progress by the time you go recharge this orn."

“Thank you, Hook. So, there is not any other quirks or things of note in my coding?” Optimus thought he may as well ask while he was there.

"...well," Hook frowned, "none of them physical. But have you read up on pilot and vessel coding?"

“I have begun to look into it, but there is a lot, and I have a lot of other things I am researching too. So I have not gotten far beyond the basics,” Optimus admitted, glancing over at Ratchet wondering if he had had a chance to properly go over the information they had been given.

"Make it a priority, no vessel will flight merge an uninformed pilot," Hook said matter of factly, "and inform Megatron when you know what you need to know."

“I intend to,” Optimus replied, not adding that he was going to be asking Megatron what he could explain about it all.

"Good," Hook finished up and disconnected everything, "I'm going to stress the eating thing again, in fact, go out now and eat something!"

“I did see a cafe not far from here, it appeared popular. I think I might go there and see what they have on their menu that fits your recommendations,” Optimus hummed, sitting up and ensuring his ports were tightly closed once again. He had the feeling that Ratchet would remain to further discuss coding with Hook, and other things. He did not want to remain here for that.

Hook grunted accent.

"Yeah, you do that, Optimus, and stay safe," Ratchet said, nodding even as he stepped up besides the much larger Hook, "see here, that's~

Optimus knew better than to linger after that, leaving the clinic and making his way to the cafe.

By the time he reached it, as short as the trip was, Optimus was starting to feel the effects along with cravings for fuels dense in certain minerals. So he listened to the cravings and used those to guide his fuel choice.

Chapter Text

Megatron hadn't read the report on Optimus that Hook had sent. He would like to have some news from the mech himself now and again. And he already knew the most pertinent fact of his coding.

Standing still, arms behind his back he watched as a group of gardeners worked the young garden crystals. The corax wouldn't stand out agewise here. He wasn't really seeing anything, just… waiting.

Optimus did his best to be patient as he was led through sections he had never been to before until finally they entered a garden. He moved ahead of his guide when he spotted Megatron.

“Megatron,” Optimus called happily, though talking felt a little strange with the fangs growing in.

“Ah,” Megatron turned a smile on thin derma, “welcome, dear one, how… what is wrong with your mouth?”

The smile turned to a worried frown, the other’s smile was slightly strained as if he was sore from a punch or something.

“Nothing is wrong, just a bit odd after having a few strings of coding activated. Apparently I have coding for both fangs and protractable claws,” Optimus explained, trying to speak as clearly as he could, he held up a hand for Megatron to see the fingertips.

“Hmm,” Megatron caught the hand, carefully looking at the tips and frowning more, “this means you need a special… one moment,” he turned and motioned to a servant, “Circe, it seems our guest has special needs at the moment, will you go tell the blenders, and bring back some solid snacks, rust sticks or lead shells with nutritious filings.”

The servant bowed, a small smile forming around his derma and as soon as Megatron finished speaking he hurried off to arrange for the new needs.

“Yes, Hook advised me to consume a lot of solid fuels. I have been following what my chassis is craving, to ensure I get the right minerals,” Optimus smiled, unconsciously showing the very tip of a new still forming fang.

“Ah, let me see?” massive claws carefully gripped the smaller mech’s chin and tilted his helm back a little more.

Optimus let his helm be tipped back, allowing his mouth to part showing off the new fangs, nowhere near as impressive as Megatron’s were, however Megatron was quite a few size classes bigger and his fangs were fully formed.

“As if you weren’t attractive before,” Megatron purred teasingly, gently running his thumb claw along Optimus' lower derma, “you are going to look feral once these grow out…”

For a long, long moment tension rose, a subtle current of want that was not easily ignored. Then Megatron let go and stood up straight to get a little space between them. “I apologise, dear one, that was… unwise of me.”

Optimus had given a slight shiver as the thumb had just so slightly pressed into the metal of his derma. When Megatron stepped away he gave his helm a slight shake, lowering it back to a comfortable position and readjusting his mouth a few times until he was mostly comfortable again.

“It is fine. Now I believe we have a garden to walk through and a crystal to find the perfect place for?”

“Indeed,” Megatron politely offered his arm and they began walking. In just half a breem Circe showed up with the snacks.

Optimus hummed happily walking along with Megatron. After Circe had stepped back again and Optimus had eaten the first ruststick, he observed, “This appears to be quite a young garden.”

“It is, on occasion old crystals will die off for no discernible reason, or they will get infected. It is the inevitability of nature, but especially of manicured nature, it is not as resistant as the wilds,” Megatron explained, “this garden saw an invasion of a type of mecha insect that eats almost anything, they swarm every hundred or so vorn. Everything had to be dug up and removed to ensure none of the insects remained, not that much of it had a chance to survive…”

“As is natural,” Optimus nodded. “Better to start fresh, then there are no diseases the mature crystals are resistant to in the area to infect the delicate new crystal buds.” He had been paying attention to the lessons when he had a chance to join them.

“Precisely,” Megatron nodded with satisfaction, “now agewise the Corax will fit in, but as I said there are two other gardens it might fit well in, one of them being the Corax garden itself.”

“Hmm, an interesting conundrum. Variety does often make for a healthier garden,” Optimus tilted his helm, looking around.

“True, though Corax is different in a lot of aspects,” Megatron rumbled, “they are called sparks of the Gods for a reason.”

“What of the third option?” Optimus inquired, though he knew they would be walking through all of the gardens.

“Ah yes, that is an older garden, mmm, that you will have to see. I cannot do it justice in simple words,” Megatron grinned teasingly down at the other, “but here, this is where the gardeners suggest in this garden.”

It was a bare patch nested in a half circle of tightly planted spire crystals in colours from dark blue to dark purple.

“It would look spectacular here,” Optimus hummed consideringly, looking around the area not just at the spot in particular.

“I have some very good gardeners,” Megatron said with obvious pride, “he’s unfortunately very busy currently but once he has time you would like my helmgardener. His name is Lowground and he is a very, very talented mech.”

“It is highly evident of their skills,” Young crystals required a lot of maintenance, and so many species together. The conditions had to be right in each section. “So how are these gardens normally used? Are they simply for viewing pleasure, or do they also produce?”

“This will be a produce garden, to a degree, like most, and yes public. The Corax garden is naturally viewing only, though any buds that are not needed in the garden is sold to private gardens,” Megatron smiled lightly, “the third garden in question is… ah well, I shall explain in time.”

Optimus nodded, “Makes sense. Best to let professionals work with the gardens that need major works, before allowing the public back in.” It would give the gardens the best chance to thrive.

“We do our best to take care of nature,” Megatron said seriously, “the tamed and the wild. I am told it is not quite the same in the northern hemisphere.”

“No, it is not. At all,” Optimus pressed his derma together then flinched a little at the prick on his new fangs, that was something he needed to get used to.

“Please take care with your fangs, dear one, I apologise, I didn't mean to cause you distress! Perhaps we should refrain from discussing such things on our dates. Hm, do you have something you wish to speak of or hear of?” Megatron stopped, lifting the other’s chin again to look at what damage he might have done to his derma.

Optimus allowed the examination before replying. “Well I have been researching Pilot and Vessel coding. However there are quite a few nuances and I have been busy so I have not gotten as far as I would like. I know the basic traits that are telltale, I also know Pilots are never flight frames on their own, but do have partial flight coding that works well with jetpacks and fits in with their Vessel’s flight coding. But there is still so much I don’t know.”

"It is likened to the symbiosis of a cassette and his littles. There is a need to be close, and oftentimes that translates to a heightened interface drive, or a heightened need to merge. There are two forms of interface for a Pilot and Vessel, the regular one and the linked one, a merge can happen in both. That is why linking is not encouraged until after bonding," Megatron paused, "linking is also called flight merge in common slang."

“So it is always a tight relationship between the pair. I suppose it is very important to ensure compatibility beforehand then,” Optimus considered, “I have read that there are a few different types, the pure Kaonite Warbuild, the pure Beastmech, then something of a combination of the two?”

"Yes, though in beastmech the Pilot is usually called a Rider and the Rider is somewhat larger than most Pilots. The physical difference is that the Pilot is enveloped in his Vessel while the Rider usually is merged to the back of his," Megatron finally let go of Optimus' chin again, huffing deeply.

"The variety in coding is of course more substantial than that, but basically that is it."

“Hook did not say, however I believe, by my own preferences, that I am purely Pilot not Rider,” Optimus indicated they should move on, wanting to see the next area that was under consideration for the blue floating corax. “I have also come across, quite a few times, that Pilots and Vessels are not compatible with any form of Trine or poly coding.”

"There have been extremely rare cases of twin Vessels or twin Pilots, but that has always been split sparks. The bond needed doesn't work with active Trine coding of any sort, nor with any other form of multiple bond coding I know of," Megatron frowned thoughtfully, as he began walking towards the tunnel entrance that would bring them to the corax garden.

“That does make sense, especially with how close the bond is…” The conversation continued in that vein until they reached the next garden they would be looking at.

“Wow!” Corax alone was always beautiful, but in a collective garden setting like this it was spectacular.

"Yes, it is impressive every time," Megatron agreed. The entrances to this garden brought visitors out above it, for a full view of its softly glowing rainbow layout.

“This truly reveals the skill of the gardeners,” Optimus was amazed, some corax were easy, but others were incredibly picky, often by colour, but not always. Though that was the reason certain colours were far less common than others.

"Lowground would be proud to hear you say so," Megatron grinned down at the other, "but come, I am sure you can guess what section the blue bud would belong to."

“Indeed,” Optimus grinned, he fancied he could also pick out the right section with the right range of hues to match.

"It will take half an eon to come to its own here, but it would complement the existing corax well," Megatron rumbled thoughtfully, "not that that would be bad… but perhaps a bit sad for such a beautiful little crystal."

“It is a truly stunning specimen, and it would be a shame. Let us have a look at the location the gardeners have picked out,” Optimus thought that seeing the location might help them decide if here was the right spot or not.

“Yes,” escorting his date down into the corax garden he smiled as they came upon the location, a picnic was laid out for them to enjoy.

“I surmise you are hungry.”

“I am,” Optimus’ finials flicked and twitched, an indicator of being a little flustered, or embarrassed. He had finished most of the snacks provided earlier. But Megatron knew about what he needed right now, so he knew he was just being silly and Megatron would understand.

“Do not worry, dear one,” Megatron couldn’t entirely be sure he read the other right, but he thought it was embarrassment of a sort, “we know what is involved in rebuilding something like fangs and claws, everything has been arranged so that your current needs are met. Perhaps though, for the sake of the servants, you might warn us beforehand next time?”

It was a tease only, technically he could have prepared, he just had a wish to afford his courtmate some privacy.

“Mmm, well I apparently do have more coding to be activated, Hook simply wanted to do it a bit at a time. The next part is for armour,” Optimus admitted, finials twitching again, but he was smiling, and after a moment of hesitation settled curled up against Megatron’s side at the picnic.

"Ah, if you think you are hungry now, then…" Megatron said with dry humour even as he deftly put together a plate for Optimus and then one for himself.

"Perhaps I should abduct you for the first few orn of that, to ensure proper fuel only, of course!"

Optimus laughed, happily accepting his plate, “You would not see me complaining.” He tucked into the meal with relish, enjoying the richness of the provided fuel.

"So I wouldn't, hmm… fuel for thoughts," Megatron hummed thoughtfully, "now, what do you think of this as a home for the corax bud?"

Optimus looked around consideringly, “I am not sure. This is a very beautiful spot, but it feels complete as it is. What do you think?”

"Much the same, the first location would offer it a uniqueness that it cannot have here. But we do have one more location to survey," Megatron grinned, he was looking forward to presenting the last garden to Optimus.

“Indeed we do, however we do still have a meal to finish first,” Optimus tilted his helm back to smile up at Megatron.

"Indeed and I do expect you to fill up, though I'm sure we can find some snacks to bring along here," Megatron surveyed the spread and rumbled with satisfaction when he spotted a small basket of rust sticks and another with filled lead and waxbites.

“No need to worry on that account. It is all excellent and very satisfying,” Optimus hummed, before popping another bite into his mouth and savouring the crunch of the exterior.

"Yes, my blenders are very enthusiastic about this," it was said in a mischievous tone, and Megatron nodded slightly to the nearest servant.

“A chance to show their skills in other ways than intricate or simply flavoursome fuels,” It was not really a question, Optimus understood the need to prove oneself and do the best they could.

"Well, that too, but mostly they are helping me court you," Megatron laughed.

"I can only humbly accept it as proof that I am a good ruler to them."

“Well I am glad they approve of me then,” Optimus smiled, taking one of Megatron’s hands and gently kissing the back of the fingers before moving it back a little so he could examine the fully formed, wickedly sharp claws.

"Mine are neither protractable or retractable," Megatron, unknowingly, wore a rather besotted expression even as he made a point of not calling out the affection displayed. Such an easy interaction was a dream come true really…

“I see, they are also a lot more robust than… say a seekers claws, though theirs are retractable. I suppose that is because they are permanent. They need to be robust to prevent them getting damaged too easily,” Optimus surmised, carefully running his thumb up the edge of a claw, very careful to not press, especially near the tip. It was not just a sharp point, but also an edge leading up to the point.

"Yes, they are," Megatron felt his vents stall, finding himself mesmerised by the careful exploration of his claws.

"War claws, I maintain the edge carefully each orn, with help of course."

“They are beautifully maintained,” Optimus complimented, finally letting the hand go in favour of fueling some more.

"Thank you," Megatron said, ever so seriously, doing his best to hide the blazing heat Optimus' actions had birthed.

“What sort of things can I expect from Warbuild coding being activated?” Optimus asked as the question occurred to him.

"Hm? Ah, that depends on a lot of factors, main things are a quicker interface drive. Temper in a Warbuild translates either to active weapons or active drive. The interface drive is first activated unless there's a physical threat to focus on."

Megatron hummed, "the rest really is about what coding combinations you have."

“I have heard something similar… Ah, Sunstorm explained about how excess energy is often shunted either to weapons or array in Warbuilds, hence why public interfacing is not only allowed, but a very normal and common thing,” Optimus mused, thinking back on that conversation.

"Yes, seekers are even more prone to it, fliers of all kinds are, than grounders," Megatron nodded, "it is one of the few things that is the same in all Warbuild mech. Claws and fangs of some form are the other two."

“It does make sense, much more so than allowing aggression to run rampant due to pent up energy. I believe it is a very healthy way to deal with what could otherwise be a big problem,” Optimus stated, “Also that is interesting.”

"Hm, what is interesting?" Pleased with the ready acceptance of what was an essential fact of life for a Warbuild, Megatron was more curious at what made Optimus curious than he was in discussing interface habits.

“That claws and fangs of some variety is always present,” Optimus explained, “I do recall in the Elite guard that there were a few mech who were always filing their fingertips. Not that I saw them do it other than one time, but I could tell by how shiny their fingertips looked. Sharpened digits of any variety were not allowed.”

"..." Megatron struggled for a moment to keep the disgust from his field, "I see. War claws are the only reason we file our claws. It is part of our identity."

“War claws? Is it only done with permanent claws?” Optimus tactfully agreed to steer away from menations of Iacon again, though he was curious if what he had noticed perhaps meant there were others with Warbuild coding amongst the Elite guard.

"It is only needed on permanent claws. Retractable and protractible claws need other forms of maintenance but generally are naturally sharper than permanent claws, and more protected," Megatron held up a hand opening and half closing it, "the wear and tear on mine is constant, on yours it will only be the tips, and they are likely to shed the outer sheath every groon or more often than that. Natural maintenance."

“Shedding? What part will shed?” Optimus asked, grateful he was learning about this now. “Also what sort of maintenance will I need to do?”

"Just the… ag, your claws will be made up of layers, once the tip turns dull the outer layer, called a sheath, will shed, leaving the new claw layer and sharp tip free. The shedding depends on how much you use them and how good you are at maintaining your fuel needs," Megatron frowned thoughtfully, "you might need light sanding tools, possibly a painting kit. I… am not sure? You might wish to ask your friends, Sunstorm and Acid Storm, there are many similarities in claw care between your type and their type."

“I will make sure to ask them then, before they fully grow in,” Optimus hummed thoughtfully, looking at the still, for now blunt, forming claws.

“Is there any maintenance I need to know about for fangs?”

"Hm, there are various kinds of cleaning done, some file them to be sharper, some decorate them in various ways," Megatron rumbled, optics a little vacant, "I can't say there's anything you need to do for certain except normal frame and dentea maintenance."

Optimus nodded, happy that there wasn’t anything time consuming or difficult. But then it did make sense, the frame was pretty good about looking after itself with only basic maintenance needed. “Pretty easy then.”

"It is, your claws will be too. The most important thing is to adjust your dietary needs, did Hook happen to tell you if you had other latent coding?" Megatron asked curiously.

“Yes, as I mentioned earlier, battle armour, I will only gain about a metre or two in height, and possibly a few spiky edges. I am unsure if there is other things. I think that was all for physical changes though,” Optimus replied.

"You need to see a dietary specialist," Megatron stated decisively, a frown on his thin derma, "preferably before Hook activates any more physical altering coding. I believe it might be good for you to have built up reserves of certain metals before such a thing. I assumed that Hook would… but he isn't all that used to domestic medicine. His patients are usually rather indisposed when he works on them. He's good, the best even… but he doesn't work in the surrounding areas of medicinal treatments and hasn't for a long time."

“That would explain a few things about his manner. I will need a contact, and possibly a reference for the specialist then. So far we do not have a set date for any more appointments,” Optimus frowned at that, wondering if Hook would properly wait until his fangs and claws were grown in or he would simply pick a time he thought would be about right.

"Hmm, yes, I suppose it will," Megatron couldn't help a certain level of amusement at that, "I believe it would be beneficial if you saw Glit. I hope you don't have any issues being treated by a cassette? I assure you he is fully educated as a medic, with honours."

“I have had no issues with others, ah I suppose they have more been store keepers. As long as the advice he gives works. Considering that you are recommending him though, I am certain he will be able to give the right advice,” Optimus shrugged, other than Soundwave’s cassettes, which he had only really seen and not actually interacted with, he had not encountered many at all.

"I promise he has better berthside manners than Hook," Megatron grinned, "and he will be able to judge your dietary needs, as well as know how to talk to Hook to get what information you and he needs."

“I will definitely take your word for it and make an appointment to see him soon,” Optimus returned the grin, he was now feeling rather curious about this ‘Glit’.

"Thank you," Megatron said simply, though it had much more weight than that. Trust of any kind was dear to Warbuilds after all.

"So, how do you like the wax constructs?" He took one off his own plate and ate it neatly.

“Most are excellent, this one is very nice if a touch sharp,” Optimus indicated the one he was meaning. It was still very nice and his nanites loved them all. But he was going to be very honest rather than be ‘caught out’ which would only upset the blenders who were trying their hardest.

"Yes, my blenders are excellent but there are just some things it's hard to disguise," Megatron nodded seriously, "they will be glad to know their efforts have been successful."

“Indeed. These ones,” Optimus indicated another type, picking it up, “Are my favourite of this selection.” With that he ate the bite, savouring the flavour as the soft filling melted on his glossa.

"They are good, but what here do you have cravings for?" Megatron indicated the entire spread.

“These,” Optimus reached to carefully indicate a thick gel bite on the main platter since there were none left on his own plate. “They are also delicious.”

"Boron rich, I am not surprised," Megatron nodded and deftly placed more on Optimus’ plate.

“Also these,” Optimus indicated a crisp layered wafer and paste bite, there were only two left on his plate, “But to a lesser extent.” He took one of them to eat.

"Hmm," Megatron tasted one and nodded, "also boron, and several other trace metals your claws and fangs need to be strong."

He served more of those too and then added a few candies.

“Thank you,” Optimus purred lightly, resuming his nibbling, though he was starting to get full.

"No need to, it is my honour and privilege to see to your needs," Megatron purred in return.

Chapter Text

Soon enough Optimus placed his plate to a side near the main platter. He usually stopped at the first full ping, but when ‘stuffing’ himself he continued to the second warning, but never past that, he did not wish to risk purging. He settled back with a satisfied sigh.

"Full, dear one? I will make sure you have a basket to bring home," Megatron nodded to the nearest servant, smiling lightly.

“Yes, I am. That is very thoughtful of you. However I believe we have another garden to explore first?” Optimus smiled, he was enjoying his orn.

"Yes, do you need to settle your meal or do you wish to go now?" Megatron asked.

Optimus hummed as he considered how he felt. “I think I am fine to go now.” they would not be doing anything more strenuous than walking, and while full he did not feel bloated or heavy because of it, despite how rich the fuel was.

"As you wish, dear one," Megatron got up, offered Optimus his arm and they began their walk.

This time it was a longer walk, downwards and inward, deep under Darkmount. They passed several gardens, all open and visited, beautiful and useful. When they finally halted it was before a closed gate, and the gate bore an image of a small mech holding his cupped hands up, a strangely shaped object hovering over them, a beautifully cut blue stone at the centre of it.

"This garden has been closed off for a long time, only tended to enough not to die off," Megatron said solemnly, gazing at the gate without seeing it, "I haven’t been here since I was a youngling… it is called the Garden of Tranquillity."

A guard stepped up and carefully pulled the gate open.

“Why is this place not used or visited more?” Optimus asked softly as he nodded to the guard and stepped through with Megatron. He had taken note of the motif, it was not… actually he thought he might have seen something like it in the Air temple in Vos.

"The old stories say this was where the Tribal shamans retreated to during storm seasons. Come," Megatron quickly led Optimus down the centre path, into the hollow of the bowl shaped garden, where a crystal rose. It wasn't a living crystal, not in the sense of Corax or spire crystal, but it was alive. It hummed softly, just beyond hearing range, it was warm, without giving off heat, and it… was tranquil, like a sparkling in recharge on its carrier's chest plate.

"See? Nowaorn it is called the Garden of Tranquility and it belongs to the Consort and only he can order it open to the public."

Optimus felt himself gravitate towards the central crystal. “I see,” Optimus replied, soaking in the feeling of the place.

“I would believe the old stories, this place has a similar feel to the main altar chamber of the Air temple in Vos.”

"It does," Megatron agreed, looking at the crystal with a faint smile on his derma, "my Carrier adored this place and especially adored sharing it with everyone who liked being here."

“One orn it will be so again,” Optimus stated softly, promising himself that he would do so if they worked out and achieved a bond. “It is well named. Let us see where the crystal might go?”

"Yes, yes of course," Megatron returned to the present and offered a slightly abashed smile, "come, this way," he led Optimus around the crystal and about a third of the way up the bowl on the other side before taking one of the smaller paths. They reached a place where a spring bubbled to the surface for a bare few feet, "here."

“Oh,” Optimus murmured softly, he could already imagine the crystal in place here, “This is a perfect place for it,” He stated still just as softly.

"Yes," Megatron agreed easily, he had hoped that would be Optimus' verdict, but had not wanted to make the choice for him.

Optimus offlined his optics and tilted his helm, imagining the first garden again, but it paled in comparison as a home for that lovely corax crystal when he onlined his optics again and once more looked around.

“Yes, here,” Optimus smiled up at Megatron, simply feeling that it was right.

"I was hoping you would say that," Megatron smiled down at Optimus and nodded, "this will be a perfect home for it "

“You already had a preference for this location,” Optimus observed with a soft smile, “Would you show me around the rest of the garden?” Despite now having made the decision Optimus was not ready to leave this garden yet, he was also definitely not ready to leave Megatron’s company yet either.

"But your decision would have decided its place regardless of my preferences," Megatron said seriously, "and yes, I would be delighted to show you around, as long as you want."

“If we had differed, I would have liked to have debated the merits of the locations first,” Optimus replied just as seriously. He was not going to simply have his opinions overrun anothers, Megatron’s simply because… because Megatron was courting him? Was that the reason? Either way he would not have it. Instead debate and a decision based on the agreed merits and detriments of either option. But fortunately in this case they agreed.

"I didn't say we wouldn't have discussed it, simply that in the end the decision would have been yours, it was what I invited you to do and it was what I would have done," Megatron said with affectionate amusement, "I do not believe you to be the kind of mech who enjoys absolute power, dear one, and I shall never attempt to make you into such a one."

“Good,” Optimus settled, satisfied and quite frankly pleased with Megatron’s response, but neither did he see a point in continuing to discuss it. “If it is alright, may I ask about your carrier?”

"Of course it is all right, what might you wish to know?" Megatron started them walking slowly along the small path they were already on.

“I was thinking in relation to this garden. Was this their favourite garden? And was there a favourite place in the garden?” Optimus asked, wanting to ease into these subjects. One never knew where bad or simply sad memories may lie, especially since it was obvious Megatron’s creators were in the Well.

"Yes, it was my Sire's too, mostly because it pleased my Carrier though. They found peace here… and allegedly I was kindled here," Megatron rumbled a laugh, "allegedly because my Sire enjoyed teasing me with it. I was vocal about it being ewwy to see them kiss when I was a youngling."

Optimus laughed, “Sounds as if you had a very happy younglinghood.” He smiled at that, though he could not truly imagine what it would be like.

"I did… I was loved," he paused, "my Creator's greatest sorrow was their inability to grant me siblings. But they never stopped me from making friends, no matter what station they were from."

Optimus nodded, “I wish I could share happy stories. But any I told would be a lie. I will not say more than that.” He briefly thought of waking up with his batch in the factory, aching as he struggled to adjust to his frame. “Every station has their purpose and is important.”

"I am sorry that that is true for you," Megatron said with sincerity, "my Creators were firm believers in earning your place. Even mine, they would not have made me heir if I hadn't shown aptitude for it, not because I was their only Creation. They would not have saddled the Empire with a bad leader."

“Wise. Did they have a favourite spot in the garden?” Optimus decided to step away from the not quite sad, but not quite happy topic.

"Yes," Megatron told a few amusing stories while he led Optimus to a place pretty much across the bowl and up towards the 'rim' of it. Here a rather more substantial pond had gathered, seemingly coming out from under the cavern wall. The liquid splashed down in a small cascade of miniature waterfalls until it disappeared into a crack in the 'floor'.

"This was their place, it is where they said I'd been kindled."

“It is a nice location,” Optimus looked around, “Fairly secluded yet with a nice open space. This whole garden has a lovely design.”

"It wasn't designed," Megatron said softly, "on occasion something has been added, like the Corax will be, but this garden has always been and will always be."

“So there has always been a garden here as long as there have been records of this place. Does the motif on the gate have any particular meaning?” Optimus decided to bring that question up and he wondered about the origin of this beautiful place.

"Yes, and longer still as some of the oldest records are written oral history of the tribes, we have no way to date that. Those stories tell of a great upheaval, the death of a way of life, a time of darkness so vast only stars were seen and then the birth of Hadeen, the sixth star of morning, and the emergence of the Vector crystals, the Vector Sigma interfaces… we think," Megatron paused, "I believe that the image on the gate is supposed to be Prima receiving one of the ancient artefacts of the first thirteen. The gate has existed as long as the garden itself, or so it seems from our records. Mind, dear one, we don't have a way to separate truth from fiction. It is said that no one who has rejected the Gods can pass the gate… I do not know if anyone such has ever tried."

“It is an interesting story, no matter how much or little is actually true. However I would agree that this is a place to come to to be closer to the Gods. Do you have a favourite spot?” Optimus asked, though he did recall Megatron saying he had not been here since he was a youngling.

"This," Megatron gestured, a crooked smile on thin derma, "I have so many memories of my Creators… working I suppose. But here, here I remember them. My Carrier and Sire."

“So this was a retreat. Were they a Pilot and Vessel pair? Or does that coding come from further back?” Optimus asked after several moments.

"They were not, but my Carrier had Vessels in his family, it is probably from there… though my Sire may also have had some. They never had it checked and I haven't bothered having it looked at after. It doesn't really matter to me," Megatron huffed softly, "yes, this was one of the few places where they could just be mechs."

“It is a good place to just be. I am glad you all had this,” Optimus smiled, thinking back wistfully on his own retreat. “I did have a retreat, a place I could go. The Archives were my haven. The helm archivist Alpha Trion is a good mech. He was the closest thing I had to a sire.”

"I wish I could meet him," Megatron rumbled low, "I would like to meet those important to you, your family."

“He is an elder mech, not sure how long he has lived, and does not suffer fools. But for those who seek knowledge for the sake of understanding our world…” Optimus smiled as he told several stories of the elder mech, “I honestly don’t know how he is allowed to get away with even half the things. The elite do not touch the great archive though.”

"Age comes with certain hmm, allowances," Megatron was amused, and intrigued, "there are so many rumours… and thoughts. Iacon really should have a Sigma Crystal, some form of connection to the old. Our history tells of peaceful cohabitation. Of mutual understanding. Is there nothing left among the Autobots?"

It was mostly rhetorical, a bit tired and a lot wistful.

“Anything left would be in the archives. The main doors are actually a bit like the gate here, the motif on them at least, but there is a mech and above one hand a book, physical with pages, and over the other a peculiar looking feather plate, with something on the tip of the shaft. The deeper parts of the archives actually feel a bit like this place does, that tranquillity,” Optimus mused, wondering. He knew that the temple and priesthood in Iacon were not the right place to look.

"Hmm, too bad we cannot visit. My ambassador in Iacon is… restricted, to say it politely," Megatron huffed again, "ah well, perhaps one orn. Now, do you want something to nibble on? Or something else?"

“If it is possible for him to visit I am sure your ambassador would be welcomed in the archives. I am fine for fuel for now, thank you,” Optimus hummed, recalling the saddened look in Trion's optics when he had been enlisted for the Elite guard, though he had still tried to visit as much as he could.

"I'll make sure he gets the suggestion, but again I do not know if he will be allowed. Now, what is making you pensive, dear one? Is it the subject again, if so I apologise," Megatron lowered his voice a little, contrition colouring the tone.

“Ah I am simply wondering what Alpha Trion has been up to and if he knows where I am now,” Optimus explained, even while in the academy he had always been welcomed. He had no idea if Trion knew where he was now.

"He seems like a mech with connections, I am sure he knows you are here… If, if!, my ambassador can visit. I'll have him tell your mentor that you are doing well for yourself," Megatron stressed the if, because it was a dangerous promise to make. A promise he might be unable to honour.

Optimus smiled, he knew it may well be a long shot, but even that slim chance helped settle him.

“So other than your creators did you have any special mentor as a youngling, or a young mech?” Optimus decided to change the subject again.

"I did, and I also spent part of my younglinghood in Vos and Tesaurus. Predaking was a formidable mentor in a lot of things, and I got to be there when Deathsaurus emerged," Megatron smiled to himself, "I served under the Vossian Helm Priest, the one before Sunstorm, with Starscream. I think that was when he decided we'd be perfect mates. I never even kissed him…"

“And as he is a seeker with the Trine code that entails, you would never have deigned to look his way. I like both Predaking and Deathsaurus, though I did get the impression of a very firm leader in Predaking. Firm but kind.” Optimus mused over that one meeting, as well as his impression of Deathsaurus.

"Yes," Megatron said and then grinned, "he is, I enjoy working with him, he isn't into convoluted politics."

“Deathsaurus certainly has a wickedly sharp mind and a different perspective on tactics. Almost unorthodox, but with a clear goal of the most damage for the least casualty,” Optimus grinned, recalling playing against the prince.

"Mm, yes, he can be vicious, but his goal is always to protect those that are his," Megatron agreed, the grin growing, "I'm not surprised he challenged you to a game."

“Yes, he made very sure to personally greet me at the farewell dinner, and took the chance to deliver the challenge there. It was a very enjoyable part of the cycle,” Optimus’ grin almost took on a feral edge as his fangs peeked out, barely visible yet.

Megatron stared for a moment and then lightly shook his helm, a wry smile grazing his derma.

"I bet it was, I am looking forward to our next game, though I admit I greatly enjoy these walks with you."

“Both activities have their merits,” Optimus agreed. “Hmm, I have been offered to join a sparing training group who practise in the training halls under the arena. I am not sure of the full implications if I decide to join.”

"Hm, if there are no sutors of yours in the group you can calmly take it for what it is," Megatron answered thoughtfully, "an invitation to be part of Kaonite social circles."

“Considering that you are currently my sole suitor…” Optimus purposefully trailed off and chuckled, “I am interested in going, I have been trying to maintain my form alone, however it is difficult.”

"It is always best with training partners. I don't doubt you will be tested, but as long as you go in honestly there will not be any negative fallout. Be honest of your abilities and you'll find help, mentors, possibly even students of your own," Megatron laughed, not a mocking sound, and shook his helm, "my people are curious, for many reasons I believe. It would make me very happy if you found joy among them."

“Of course, I have nothing to hide and nothing to gain from hiding where my abilities are at. I think I will give it a try,” Optimus nodded, satisfied with his decision.

"You honour me," Megatron reached, slowly, and took a small hand, carefully lifting it till he could kiss the back of it, "for luck," he turned the hand over and kissed the palm, "for you."

Optimus purred and before Megatron could let his hand go he caught one of Megatron’s and carefully brought it to him to kiss the palm. “For you,” He said almost shyly.

Megatron purred back wordlessly, closing his hand and gently bumping against his chest plate, over his spark.

He opened his mouth to say something when someone politely clicked from the sideline.

"My Lord, sorry for the interruption," a servant bowed, "Lord Soundwave requested your presence," red optics flicked to Optimus, "there has been a border incursion."

Optimus frowned, but knew better than to ask. For all that Megatron was courting him there were still things too sensitive for him to know about, especially with where he was originally from.

"Of course," Megatron huffed tiredly, before turning his attention back to Optimus, "I am sorry, dear one, this was not the ending I had hoped for. Will you be alright?"

“If I could have a guide back to the main tunnels. I will be right from there,” Optimus replied, “It can not be helped. It really was longer than I dared hope for. And we did find the right home for that lovely crystal.”

"That we did, and you will be escorted home," Megatron finally rose, "none of this is confidential, you are free to tell the ambassador. I think perhaps it would be good if he knew a little more of what his superiors are up to."

“Thank you. Yes well there might be some use in that, there might be a pattern none can see as everyone only has part of the information,” Optimus mused. “We will let you know if Jazz makes any note of it.”

"Thank you, dear one, be safe till I see you again," a frustrated expression crossed Megatron's faceplates and he stepped forward, bending to press a quick kiss to Optimus' helm and then he left.

Optimus placed the hand Megatron had kissed earlier over his spark as he watched him leave. Once Megatron was out of sight he turned politely to the remaining servant, smiling as he noticed a basket in his hands.

Chapter Text

Back at the embassy Optimus easily found Jazz.

"Oppy! Ah see ya got sum gifts," Jazz grinned then almost immediately sobered as he got a good look at Optimus’ expression, "wh' happened mech?"

“There has been a border incursion, Megatron was required in a meeting, cutting our date short. It is believed to be a deliberate attack rather than marauders. No need to worry, I have been given permission to tell you. Also if there is anything, any pattern, or activity from Iacon that you know about that may be linked… we are looking for patterns,” Optimus ranted before flopping down near Jazz.

"... Well frag them!" Jazz said sourly, "ah guess ah'll be called ta explain' this mess soon then."

The ambassador glanced at Optimus and quirked a smile, "guess ya ain' too 'apoy either?"

“I am not happy about the date getting cut short, however I am very happy with how the date went. Also very much not happy with Iacon,” Optimus shrugged, calming down from his own irritation now that it was shared.

"Yeah," Jazz muttered, looking glum again, "ah think we all need ta 'ave a serious talk 'bout staying Iaconian. 'is our lives on a line when they pull this scrap!"

“Well I think my stance is pretty obvious. And I would say that Megatron trusts you. He really does like you and is glad you are ambassador. He was talking about hoping the next one would be like you, or else a total recluse who is never seen,” Optimus gave a soft faintly amused smile at that.

"Huh, glad ta hear that, but ya know… ah can' keep Bee a secret ferever… is… ah think we're runnin' outta time, ma mech," Jazz huffed softly.

“You know I will support your call. I am also certain we will all be welcome to remain in Kaon when we lose this position,” Optimus reached out soothingly with his fields. “We will make it work.”

"Ah know, 'm glad, ah just… is a lot. An… ah think Ratchet might 'ave gone an done as Bee. He's been… not 'ome fer a few orn. Not that ah blame 'im but… yeah, time. Ya dig?"

“Yeah, everything is kinda happening at once, and we are still not certain what is going on with Wheeljack. I hope he is in Vos when this all blows up,” Optimus sighed.

"Yeah…" silence fell contemplative and… surprisingly not depressive. Things were changing and changing fast, but it also meant freedom. A new beginning among mecha that put value in the individual and not in repression.

“On the plus side Megatron and I figured out where to put the corax crystal. The garden is not currently open to the public, only being able to be opened by the consort. However in the likely case that I become consort I will have the garden open, it deserves to be seen, enjoyed,” Optimus broke the silence after a good while, smiling fondly at the thought.

"Oh ho! Makin' plans huh?" Jazz grinned cheekily at the other, "hey, what' is up with ya mouth?"

“As you know I had that appointment with Hook, he found a good bit of Warbuild coding and with my permission started activating it, first is fangs and claws,” Optimus grinned and wiggled his fingers at Jazz, before holding one up to let him see the change to the tips.

"Whoa, ma mech!" Jazz grasped the hand and looked carefully at the building claws, "see wha' ah miss from the Hatchet not commin' 'ome?"

“There is more too… Oh, I need to get in contact with a dietary specialist, Megatron recommended Glit… This is not all the changes there will be. I will also have thicker battle armour too,” Optimus reminded himself, glad that he remembered now.

"Oookay, ah need details," Jazz threw his hands up after having let go of Optimus', "an' a snack… Prowl shoul' be back with sum verra soon."

Optimus nodded and settled in to explain fully, at least everything he understood, including what Megatron had told him about his fangs and claws.

A few breem in Prowl arrived and the conversation started over. It became a long night, most of it in serious discussion of if and when they should pull out of the embassy.

Chapter Text

The clinic was warm and welcoming, crystals dotted around and reading pads on the waiting room tables. It was clearly not a medical facility that treated active sickness or injuries.

"Optimus Prime? Medic Glit will see you now," the polite mech seated behind the reception desk called out, pointing at a green door.

“Thank you,” Optimus set down the reading pad he had been looking through and smiled at the receptionist before heading through the indicated doors.

"Hello, Optimus Prime," the room looked like any office did, except there was no chair behind the desk. The medic sat on the desk, the felinod sitting primly, with his tail over his front paws.

"I am medic Glit, I work mainly with mechs who need dietary help. Please, sit."

“Hello Medic Glit. Yes and that is why I am here this orn,” Optimus smiled, it was odd, but Glit was acting professional which helped Optimus settle with the discrepancy of expectation, despite already being warned.

"Yes, I took the liberty of contacting Medic Hook for further details, as you allowed us when you made this appointment. I can imagine that Medic Hook was sparse on details?" The tail tip flicked once, as if Glit had difficulty controlling some emotion while saying the last bit.

“Yeah, to say the least,” Optimus admitted. “I was firmly told to fuel on a lot of solid fuels, which I have been, and that is pretty much it. I have been following my chassis cravings and doing my best to keep on top of them.”

"Yes, well, there is more to it than that. Do you know anything about Warbuild sparklings upgrade and growth cycles?" Glit did his best not to wilt, but there were times he would gladly try and stuff a datapad down Hook's intake.

This was such a time…

“No, I do not,” Optimus frowned, then sighed, “I don’t even know about Civilian frame growth cycles. I will spare you the details of what I went through in Iacon. I suppose I should have looked into it upon finding out that as a Pilot I am a type of Warbuild.”

“No, you could not have known what that meant, nor would you likely have understood the significance. Let me start with another question, this one is perhaps a little personal, but I promise it is important. How strong is your interface drive?” Glit asked carefully, tail twitching.

“Ah…” Optimus paused as he considered. He knew he had a drive but how strong was it?

“For the most part it has been basically non-existent, however recently it has… I do find myself interested in my courtmate that way, however the actual drive to do anything with the interest is low.”

“That is because you are technically still a youngling,” Glit said, bearing his fangs lightly in disgust at what he was saying, “Medic Hook sent over the scan of your coding, but he is primarily a surgeon and did not understand the finer points of what had been done to you. I have several code readers in my employment and they all unanimously agreed that in an effort to keep you from developing any Warbuild traits your coding had been locked down to keep you in your last youngling upgrade cycle. It was masterfully done, you have lost all sparkling traits, but you are not exhibiting or experiencing any of the things someone suffering delayed upgrade syndrome should be.”

Optimus sat there for a long moment, struggling to take that in.

“Can what they did be fully undone? Can I become a full adult as my spark and coding originally intended me to be?” Optimus asked carefully, almost afraid of a no, afraid… suddenly afraid that he may never be able to spark because of this. He clamped down on that the best he could. Answers first.

“Yes, I am fairly certain you are not the first they did this to. And I am sure that they at some point tried to… delete things. It would not have gone over well. What they did locked down your coding, it did not alter it or damage it. You will soon be the oldest newly grown ever to walk Kaon’s streets,” Glit flicked his tail fully and rose to stand on all four, “now though, Medic Hook thought he could free a few sets of coding, but by the looks of the last scan, after he had freed your claws and fangs? The rest is unravelling, slowly, but speeding up over time. I will need a new scan this orn to know just how fast that unravelling is going.”

He paused, ears flicking back and tail swishing, “think of it like this, for the past many vorn you have been caught on the cusp of adulthood. Now your chassis is being freed and it is trying to catch up.”

“So it is potentially going to be a fair bit more than merely the physical changes. I give permission for the scan to be done,” Optimus stated decisively. He wondered what Megatron would think when he found out.

“You will need looking after, you may experience shutting down in forced naps and other such unpleasant things. Not to mention your appetite will be horrible to deal with. We do have some facilities here… but I have been led to believe you may have some, ah, more personal arrangements waiting for you?” Glit said delicately, ears flicking, before he pressed a button on his terminal and requested a mech named Clawspinner.

“I am sure my courtmate will have everything arranged as soon as he hears of this,” Optimus replied with a soft smile and a hint of dry humour.

“I have little doubt,” Glit nodded, “as for your current diet… you need more boron, you need more of everything. You need to fill your tank every breem until you feel you may back it all up. You have to become a glutton. You are going to go through a growth spurt of protoform mass and a reconfiguration of your armour in a relatively short time. Had you been a normal youngling these things would have happened over a few vorn of time. Now I estimate you might be fully grown within three groon. The more you can have in you of trace metals the better things will go and the less pain or discomfort you will experience.”

The door opened and a relatively small and thin Warbuild walked in, “hi Glit, I… oh! Wait, is this… oh my! I am sorry, hello I am Clawspinner, I am a code reader. I… I… I don’t know if I should offer condolences or…” the mech petered off, clearly flustered.

“It is alright, code reader, Clawspinner. I believe I have you and the rest of the team to thank for properly interpreting my coding in good time. I would not have wanted the coding to fully unravel before anyone was aware of what was happening,” Optimus smiled reassuringly at the clearly flustered mech.

“Oh right, I~

“Clawspinner? Please, I would like you to make another scan of Optimus Prime’s coding,” Glit broke in with patient kindness, “if you please?”

“Oh, yes, right, of course,” Clawspinner flicked his optics off and online rapidly and then hastily walked to a set of machines on a wheeled stand, getting them over to Optimus’ chair, “it will only take a moment and then I will go down and look at it with the others and we’ll have some answers in a few breem. This is not invasive at all. I won’t manipulate anything. May I have access to a medical port, sir?”

Optimus lifted an arm with the medical port already unlocked, he had done so when the mech had brought the machine back, “Of course, I will allow you to do what you need,” Opimus replied calmly, strangely put at easy by the mech, he simply felt… not harmless, but unwilling to harm.

“Thank you, your very… uh, nice,” Clawspinner fumbled a little, “it will only take a moment!”

Glit huffed softly, it was clear that the code reader was doing his best to not ramble but it was not really his nature to be quiet. He was however the very best at this work.

Optimus remained patient, allowing the machine through his firewalls as they were pinged. As he was told it did not take long before the intrusion retreated again.

“I would prefer to simply be called Optimus,” Optimus stated as they waited.

“Oh, um, oh, sure, O-optimus,” Clawspinner’s voice rose a few notes, and he packed up with a rather starstruck expression on his face plates, “have a nice orn, sir, bye.”

Glit shook his helm and flicked his ears, “I assure you he is the best code reader. He is simply a bit… socially awkward. Now, will you allow me to scent your plating?”

“I have no doubt that he is one of the best,” Optimus smiled, settling his arm, with the ports now tightly closed again, on the edge of the desk in silent acceptance of the request.

“Good, and thank you,” Glit took the one step he needed to and lowered his helm so he could scent the arm plating with his olfactory sensor and the special scent sensors he had in the roof of his mouth and on his glossa.

“Mhmm, yes, mmm,” Glit murmured and then pulled back to settle down again, “yes, you definitely need boron, large quantities. Have you ever had much of it?”

“Since arriving in Kaon I have developed a preference for things with at least a trace of boron, amongst other things,” Optimus hummed, “But I have not specifically sought it out until Medic Hook unlocked the first bits of coding.” Optimus settled back properly again when Glit stepped back.

“Boron is a building block, it makes it possible for our frames to make lightweight, strong structures in armour and whatever else our coding wants our chassis to sport. The more boron, or bor, there is to work with the better the underlying structure of everything you are made of.”

“I see,” Optimus nodded and pulled out a handful of energon laced nutrient balls, “These are what I have found satisfies me best at this time.” Optimus ate one and offered another for Glit to inspect, wondering how good they truly were for his current and projected needs.

“Ah yes, these are perfect,” Glit held up a paw to show he didn’t need to see it up close, “they are a snack and reward used for sparklings and younglings during growth cycles. You will need more than they can provide though.”

“So a good start point,” Optimus nodded, pleased that he had found something appropriate. He ate the rest of his handful. “I take it the sooner I start stuffing myself the better, no matter how long it will take for the coding to fully unravel.”

“Yes, also to get your tank used to it,” Glit clicked with annoyance, “purging is always bad, but it will be worse during what you are going though. I cannot blame Medic Hook for this as such, but it would be nice to have someone to bite right now.”

“I would have had to have had my coding unlocked at some point, unfortunately the ones who deserve a bite are in Iacon,” Optimus agreed with Glit’s sentiment, it was not a good situation, but they would manage it, somehow.

“Ah,” Glit turned to his terminal, “a prileminal, hm, it is not going as fast as feared it seems, they will have a full estimate in a few breem. And a list over the coding effects once fully online. Hm, let's see if we can’t make you a dietary list before we get further information.”

Optimus pulled out his datapad and set it to a new document ready to take notes.

Soon enough the terminal pinged once again.

“There we are,” Glit padded back to the screen and clicked thoughtfully to himself, “it looks like you will have at least a groon before the worst of it starts. But then it will be a difficult… three maybe four groon after that. There will be pauses where everything seems to stop and adjust and then it will begin again. It will follow the natural ebb and flow of a growth cycle but much much faster. I will not lie to you, Optimus, it will be very unpleasant, at times it will hurt. And long before you are done you will feel like you will hate fuel forever more.”

Glit looked from the screen to Optimus with a very serious demeanour, “you will need support though this, if your courtmate is too much of intimate choice for this task I will insist you come here. But in all honesty your courtmate can give you much better care than this clinic can.”

“I will allow my courtmate to help me through this. Call it a test, if we can manage through this, I will be far more confident that we will be able to make the strong bond required by our coding,” Optimus decided knowing that Megatron would offer everything he needed.

“I commend you, and you are very probably right in that assessment,” Glit answered, “in that case… I would like you to come in every ten orn for us to keep an optic on the coding. Just because we think we have it calculated…”

“Of course, we do not know if anything may trigger it to speed up,” Optimus agreed. He was happy to have a plan, though the idea of what had actually been done to him and others… he was doing his best to not think about that.

“There is that,” Glit looked at his screen and then back up at Optimus, “there is a fuel seller across from this clinic that I have an agreement with, he will have a lot of the things you need as additives so that you can add it to your preferred fuel. Or to fuel that you just feel like at that moment. I suggest going with variety as much as you can or you may end up strongly disliking certain types of fuel.”

“I will certainly keep that in mind and I will visit him when I head out. Was there anything else or is it time to book the next appointment?” Optimus asked, feeling like that was about everything.

“I have already messaged the receptionist to have the first two ready for you,” Glit grinned, a toothy one, and then paused thoughtfully, “if you feel anything off or odd do not hesitate to call. The comms are staffed all orn, dark or light cycle. We only think we know how this will play out and other than saying you will be fine after it is done, the events of it will be a mystery till they happen. I would rather we all avoid surprises, hmm?”

“I will contact even if I just have questions,” Optimus assured Medic Glit, “If others like me get sent here from Iacon… I would rather everyone know what is the best way to deal,” Optimus frowned at the idea, but he had no doubt that there were others.

“I would say that is wise,” Glit said, though it was clear he was disturbed by the very idea.

“I surmise you will contact the relevant mechs yourself too? I shall wish you a good orn then,” the felinod nodded to the other mech.

“Of course,” Optimus smiled again and nodded respectfully to Glit, “A good orn to you too.” With that he left, pausing at the reception to sort out what time his next appointments will be.

“Jazz isn’t going to be in for a few orn,” Prowl smiled at Optimus, sorting a stack of coloured plates even as he asked, “did the talk with the medic go well?”

“For a given definition of well. Glit is a very good medic and the meeting was good. The prognosis… not so much,” Optimus sighed, feeling a wave of anger rise and subside again.

“Iacon apparently had locked me in my last youngling frame, and when Hook unlocked those few strands he inadvertently set the rest to unravelling. I have a groon until it is all unlocked,” Optimus explained.

Prowl had slowed his sorting and then stopped all together, focusing all his attention on the younger mech as he spoke.

“I should not be surprised given what else our government seems to stand for,” Prowl frowned, he knew very little of sparklings and younglings save what they had all learned in Tesaurus, “and yet I am. Just what will this entail? And what does it mean, locked in your last youngling frame?”

“While my spark is fully mature, my frame is not what my adult frame is supposed to be. The process will apparently be a condensed version of what all younglings go through with each growth cycle. According to Medic Glit, I will be even more hungry than I am now and I will need a lot of rest, to the point that my chassis might simply force me into recharge cycles unexpectedly. I have about a groon before that point starts,” Optimus replied, though he knew there would be a lot more questions coming.

"So we need to prepare, I gather," Prowl looked about and huffed when no notepad showed up out of the blue, "let's go to my quarters, we can make a plan and get something to fuel on. This can wait anyway," he padded the top of one pile of coloured plates.

“The most likely scenario is that Megatron will look after me for the three to four groon it is predicted to last for,” Optimus explained, though he watched as Prowl tidied up and followed him down.

"Megatron, why? I'm not going to dispute it, but it seems a little… odd?" Prowl looked at Optimus, "is it a courting thing? I admit I have not read all of the information on courting you have gathered for us. It seemed a little unimportant for me as I am already mated."

“It very much is a courting thing, the one doing the courting must be able to prove several things, but the most important is that they are able to provide. Provide a safe and comfortable home, fuel, security, material wealth, but also provide on an emotional level too, comfort, joy, love. So this is a perfect opportunity for Megatron to prove he can provide everything I will need in that time, and I will get a far better idea if we are compatible on an emotional level,” Optimus nodded, pointing out the most important aspects involved in this.

"I see, that does make sense I suppose," Prowl hummed, "what of the groon up to? What sort of things do you need organised?"

“Mainly I need to prepare by stuffing myself with as much boron and trace mineral rich fuel as I can without purging,” Optimus shrugged, pulling out a handful of wafers he had gotten at the fuel stand across from Glit’s clinic.

"Ah! Fuel is something we can figure out, did the medic give you a specified list?" Prowl made a motion with one hand, "I can't pretend to understand this... Jazz and I, we… We've talked about signing up for some of those Creator classes. We would like to Create here, but that will require preparation. Maybe this will help too."

“Yes he did,” Optimus pulled out his pad and after a moment of thought a smaller pad and linked them, sending the relevant files across, handing that to Prowl. “I would say go for it. Those classes will also show to those here that you are fully embracing the Kaonite way.”

"That would of course be a help too," Prowl laughed softly, taking the pad, "but I think… we might not meet much in the way of resistance once we are done here."

He keyed open his door and gestured for Optimus to sit while he fetched something to fuel on.

“I think you will find a lot of welcome,” Optimus agreed as he stepped past Prowl and settled.

Chapter Text

Optimus knew this was not quite to the medics orders, however he knew that having a very full tank while sparring was simply asking to purge which was far far worse. He followed the directions he had been given, down under the arena to a large training hall where about two dozen mecha were gathered.

"Oh hey," the mech was small, not as small as Optimus but still small compared to the largest number of Kaonites, "are you Optimus Prime? Kobolt said you'd come buut… I'm Snakeskin! We're in that room over there this orn."

“Yes I am Optimus, nice to meet you, Snakeskin. I would have sent an apology if I could not make it,” Optimus smiled at the mech, curious as he thought he could detect something of an accent and his colours were brighter than the normal for Kaonites.

"Well that's nice to know, but it's more that… well, other than Prowl and Bumblebee a few times, you guys don't really come. Prowl teaches Circuit Su you know," Snakeskin talked animatedly, gesturing with hands that very definitely did not sport claws.

“Well I will admit that I won’t be able to come for perhaps five groon after this, but that is due to upgrades I am having done,” Optimus decided that it was best to explain it that way rather than horrify everyone with the horrors of what the Autobot Elite was capable of ordering done.

"Whoa, what kinda upgrade takes five groon, mech!" a loud voice from the side broke in.

"Mebbe 'e getting wings," another chimed in, curious rather than shocked.

"That lime coloured, loud disaster is my mate, High-pressure. That's his sibling, Boltcutter," Snakeskin said with a blatantly fake, put upon expression.

"Hey! You totally took me for this," the 'lime coloured disaster’ hollered back striking a ridiculous pose.

Optimus laughed and shook his helm, “Not too far off I suppose, I am getting a rather major armour upgrade, as well as the time to fully settle my new fangs and claws,” Optimus waved his fingers before holding them still so the tips could be seen.

"Neat!" both mechs, a lot bigger pure Warbuilds, crowded in to see the claws and several others came over to say hello and see what was going on.

"I suppose this is also a way to do introductions," Snakeskin laughed.

“I suppose so,” Optimus grinned.

“So I can’t help but notice you have an accent, where is it from?” Optimus asked casually, though he had his suspicions, after the others had dispersed around the room again.

"Oh, I doubt you have heard of the place," Snakeskin shrugged, a bit of sadness in his field even though he tried to be nonchalant, "it's a small town on the border called Rimward. You know, just before the runners of the Magnalium Mountain range? It's… it was beautiful and nice."

“Actually I have been around that area, before being sent here I did a tour of that area. It is beautiful,” Optimus hesitated a moment before asking, “If you don’t mind… how did you come to Kaon from all that way?” He knew there was a vast desert between there and here.

"Well… I um, when I got my last upgrade these grew in," Snakeskin bared his denta, showing off modest fangs, "I filed them in the beginning but, it didn't feel right? And when I left them one orn, I got fired, and I couldn't get another job even when I filed them down again. Everyone knew and… it isn't that they didn't want to help but what with the laws from the Council in Iacon…"

He shrugged, looking down on his hands, "Sire heard about a group of Elites being sent to… They packed me supplies, a friend of the family cobbled together a sandrunner and I went.."

“I would say you are very lucky having grown up in the border area… It is not exactly an upgrade I am getting, as it is finally allowing my frame to reach full maturity,” Optimus shared softly. “In Iacon itself if they find it early enough they suppress Warbuild coding so no traits show through.”

"That's disgusting!" Snakeskin didn't look up, but he did clench his fists, growling a little, "but I'm not surprised, I don't think there is anything they wouldn't do to suppress Warbuild coding…"

“It does make me concerned for others like you,” Optimus sighed, “If there was any way to help them I would attempt it.” He meant it too, what had been done to him was terrible but he had not actually suffered, not like Snakeskin had and others still did.

"An underground railroad?" Snakeskin said with dry humour.

“Well how did you manage to find your way here? If we reinforce what is already there, it may cause less suspicion in Iacon,” Optimus asked, considering the idea, not a literal railroad, but a path mecha could find if they needed it.

"Luck mostly, I mean… Kaon is east of the border that Rimward is on so I just set the sandrunner towards east and hoped for the best?" Snakeskin huffed softly, "I ended up in a Kaonite/Tesaurian hybrid town, almost offline. I thought I'd been lucky finding nice mechs, but turns out that's a pretty widespread trait."

“What do you think would have made it easier for you? Either for the trip or the decision to go,” Optimus decided this would be the last question on the topic

"Hmm, I think then, and still, the worry is the worst of it. Not worry for me, but those I left behind. My Creator had kindled, his first carry, and just… I miss my family? It would have been easier knowing they were safe, it would have been easier if I'd known where to go, that I'd be welcome," Snakeskin frowned, "how many hide in plain sight because they think the alternative is worse?"

“Thank you for sharing this. I will think it over and bring it up with my courtmate,” Optimus smiled reassuringly at Snakeskin before it turned a little sly, “Now I believe we are not just here to talk?”

"Oh, yeah, that's true… so what's your blade? I'm dual wielding curved short swords. My mate handles a two handed broadsword and his brother is a warhammer wielder," Snakeskin perked at the subject change.

“Broad head battle axe. Two handed,” Optimus replied happily. He was impressed by the duel wielding, even in Kaon few practised that.

"Oh nice," Snakeskin waved the other with him and pulled a rack from the wall. The rack had training weapons, all axes, from throwing to two handed. No few ridiculously big from an Autobot point of view.

"As a rule, first timers don't use sharp weapons for the first three or four sparring matches. And of course neither does his opponents. It's just to ensure that anyone joining in can actually do what they claim. Accidents in the ring can be fatal after all."

“I would have been insulted if it had been otherwise,” Optimus admitted, looking through the blunt training weapons, checking over a few that caught his optic. “Everyone has the right to own a personal weapon, but have to earn the right to wield it.” It was an old Kaonite saying he had found, and it was one that had struck a note with him.

"True," Snakeskin agreed with a grin, "and spoken like a carried Kaonite! Any of them to your liking? If not we can go look in one of the other rooms."

“This one is pretty close to what I have, the balance is a little different due to the different length, but the weight is pretty right,” Optimus mused over one, testing the edge to ensure it was properly dulled. “I have done a lot of research, and believe me that is still ongoing.”

"Life long, trust me," Snakeskin said, holding out his hands for the axe. He checked the edge too, but also the handle and wrapping.

"It's good."

“I can always try out another if I am not happy after the first match,” Optimus nodded, though he doubted that would be the case. “And I am sure it will be. My first passion is learning after all.”

"Oh? But you're a Prime, or were a Prime? I don't really pretend to follow gossip that closely," Snakeskin spoke while closing the rack back up in the wall.

“I was an archivist first before being conscripted,” Optimus shrugged, “I enjoyed both to some degree, though knowing what I do now there is a lot left to be desired in how they teach at the academy and what. But that is to our benefit.”

"Indeed," Snakeskin murmured, giving the other a long searching look.

"So, want to spar with me for your first tryout?"

“Sure, so what rules are we going by?” Optimus gave an anticipatory grin. He had been looking forward to this for some time now.

"First chest plate strike is a kill, pull your slashes, it's training dull weapons, not foam toys," Snakeskin grinned teasingly, "basically same as live weapons, just expecting mistakes."

“Are native mods allowed or not?” Optimus asked, moving into a series of flexes and stretches to get ready for the imminent activity, he knew he would have to watch Snakeskin carefully, technically with the axe he had the longer reach, but he also had slower recoil, duel weapons could give good defence as well as excellent offence, depending on the skill of the wielder.

"Hm, if it's not a weapon it's allowed, but not as a surprise," he paused and then grinned, "my mod is a weapon," Snakeskin actually looked shy, "a natural poison. But I'd have to bite you so…"

“Wow, that is quite interesting and I think mine is not a weapon, but I will let you decide,” Optimus shouldered the axe and pulled out a length of one of his grapplers with his free hand.

"That isn't classified as a weapon," Snakeskin laughed, "though in my experience it should be. Feel free to use it, this will be interesting!"

“Indeed it will be,” Optimus reeled the line back in, “I am almost surprised it is not considered a weapon, considering how many items do get that title. I guess it is more of a ‘potential’ but not actual weapon.”

"I believe it's the fact that few use it as a weapon. An aid sure, but not actively as a weapon," Snakeskin shrugged and led the way to one of the unoccupied painted rings on the floor, "rules are to stay in the ring, for the safety of everyone else, and the rest you already know. Ready?"

“Ready,” Optimus confirmed, settling himself into a ready stance across the ring from his opponent. For the sake of clean up, he decided he would not be using his foam cannon, otherwise he would have shown that as well.

Snakeskin had his own training weapons, ones that were treated to as much care and respect as his personal blades. Both sets had been Mating gifts from High-pressure while he'd been frantically trying to convince him to move to Kaon with him.

Settling down, the curved blade hilts resting comfortably in his hands, he looked at the other and centred himself.

Optimus laughed, easily accepting the hand up from his position on his back on the mats.

“Wow, congratulations. Though I must admit I am out of practice and have never been up against a dual wielding opponent before.”

"And you are way too concerned about hurting others," Snakeskin grinned, hauling the other upright, "you're not bad, you just need some confidence. Practice, practice, practice!" he singsonged the last teasingly.

“Better too weary than ending up hurting others,” Optimus countered, “At least as a start point. Oooh, looks like your mate is up next.” He pointed to where High-pressure was stepping into one of the rings.

"He's got tank plating, you'd have to make something of a love tap to even dent him," Snakeskin said with confidence, "up and at'em!" he lightly pushed at Optimus.

“Wh…?” Optimus quickly recovered from his shock and turned to face his new opponent, “Alright for this match I might end up using my foam cannon. Yes I said foam.” Optimus called, showing the deceptively small nozzles on the back of his arm guard, along with his grapplers.

"What'd I do ta deserve foam?" High-pressure asked, rhetorically as he immediately launched into 'battle'.

“I might not use it, but blame your mate if I do,” Optimus teased, darting out of the way, deciding that his grapplers might be able to be put to good use here.

“See, no foam,” Optimus panted, helping untangle his grapplers, it was far easier using them on larger opponents, especially ones who had some sort of limited manoeuvrability already.

"Hah!" High-pressure clapped the other, carefully, on the back and cheerfully announced, "I'd take grapplers over foam any ol'orn. Ever considered adding knives to ya arsenal? Ya quick enough for them!"

“I know the basics of how to handle them, however since I was good with the axe I was not really taught anything else,” Optimus admitted. “I would like to add other weapons to my repertoire.”

"Huh, wait," the bigger mech stood up and looked around for a second before suddenly hollering, "HEY, DIRTBIKE, GET OVER 'ERE."

"THERE'S SUCH A THING AS COMMS'." was hollered back, but a mech, about Optimus’ size began walking over.

"Hey, I'm Dirtbike," he said to Optimus, "what is it you want you menace?" he shot at High-pressure.

"This is Optimus Prime, he'd like to try knives, 'ave fun!" High-pressure saluted them both, swung his sword up to rest on a shoulder pauldron and headed off to another ring.

“Err,” Optimus was not entirely sure what was going on by this point, but he decided to just roll with it.

“Is it always like this?” Optimus asked curiously after greeting Dirtbike.

"Pretty much? I mean, it's not structured a lot, this is more of a… fun sort of social practice thing? Of course sparring matches," he gestured to the occupied rings, "but also a lot of technical education and trying out new weapons. We have more intense training every orn pretty much, this is a place where you can measure your growth and branch out?"

“That is pretty neat,” Optimus grinned, “So you are pretty good at teaching knife handling then?”

"Depends, I use daggers," a pair of slim daggers appeared out of seemingly nowhere and was expertly, and flashy, spun around slim clawed fingers, "if you want throwing knives or fighting knives I can point you at somemech else."

“I think daggers will be a good start point,” Optimus was impressed by the control in the showy knife spinning, “You have great control and dexterity.”

"Small and fast," Dirtbike shrugged, a sly grin on his derma, "okay, let's," he looked around, "go over here and I'll start with how to tell a dagger from other common knives."

Optimus paid avid attention, asking enough questions that it took quite some time before they even got to pulling out some training blunt daggers to try the different grips on. He would never have guessed there was so much to the seemingly simple weapon.

A few others drifted by, some got in on the discussion, or teaching session, and others simply drifted off again. A pair of ornate stilettos was among the weapons shown off and compared to Dirtbike's collection of blades.

Optimus was fascinated and not even upset that he did not get to do more than hold a few different types of daggers, having his grip adjusted, or listen and watch as several basic skills were shown off, before it was time for them all to start heading homeward again. He did promise that once he returned after his upgrades that he would continue the lessons.

Chapter Text

"Thi' the last social function ahm lettin' ya do 'afore ya thin'," Jazz noted seriously, "ab' only 'cause it' 'bout Jackie."

Wheeljack looked up from his datapad questioningly and then back down when it was clear he wasn't being spoken to.

"Agreed. It is difficult to be social and prepare," Optimus agreed, he had sent a message on ahead to warn Megatron already, he hoped to work out some future details with him during this event too.

“Will ya be able ta get the right sorta fuel here?” Jazz worried, “did ya bring anything… nah, that’ be an insult wouldn’ it? Argh!”

"I already sent Megatron a message. He will have what I need ready and available," Optimus replied, in comparison to Jazz he was quite calm.

"Ah suppose," Jazz shifted, agitated still. Prowl reached out to take his hand and calm fell for the last few moments until their skimmer sat down.

They were met at the elevator down by an assistant carrying a basket. Optimus smiled at the mech as they approached.

"My Lord Megatron sent word to keep you well fueled, sir, I am Xylofon, I'll be your personal attendant for the duration of this event," the basket was held out for Optimus to choose something to eat if he was so inclined.

"Wella, 'e does work fast," but despite the teasing edge in Jazz’s tone he did relax at the presence of this proof of Megatron's awareness and caring.

“Thank you Xylofon,” Optimus accepted a couple bites as they entered the elevator.

"My Lord Megatron knows well the requirements of an upgrading frame," Xylofon answered Jazz, politely if a little primly perhaps, "he also wishes it known that time has been made for a meeting after the dinner. And further that he requests that Optimus Prime sits with him at dinner, if it pleases you?"

Optimus was very, very glad that he had sent a message on ahead for this. Far ahead as it had been sent later the orn he had been seen by Medic Glit. He turned to Jazz hopeful as he would have to agree first, though he already knew what the answer would be.

"O'couse 'e can, ya can, an' enjoy!" Jazz said with a smile, not one of his grins, private or public suited, but a genuine soft smile.

“I will gladly join Lord Megatron for dinner,” Optimus also smiled, however his was a soft besotted type of smile, he was eager to be in Megatron’s company again.

"Good," Xylofon nodded, smiling back though he mostly focused on Optimus, "I know seats have been prepared for all of you at Helm Priest Sunstorm's table this dark cycle."

"Sunstorm? Nice, thank ya fer that, is very considerate o' ya," Jazz said with enthusiasm. It was a lot more prestigious place than they'd been granted before… Well, before a lot of things had gone down really!

“Yes, Sunstorm and his mate Acid Storm are returning to Vos soon too,” Optimus mused, knowing that was a likely reason Sunstorm would have arranged for this. There was only so long he could be granted leave from his duties… for both of them really.

"Lord Megatron is aware of that and wished for you all to have a last official gathering," Xylofon answered, "He has also been made aware that Scientist Wheeljack has been officially invited to Vos by Vos’s Science division."

“That really is very considerate,” Optimus purred, accepting another bite from the basket. He glanced over to Wheeljack where he was still acting very subdued compared with before Starscream had been sent back to Vos.

"It is," Prowl murmured, a smile on his derma.

"Lord Megatron has alway' been generous toward' us," Jazz grinned this time, but it was one of those that normally only came out in private

Whether Xylofon had something to say about that or not was moot as the elevator stopped and they all were urged out and followed politely to their seating. Once Jazz and his 'entourage' were seated the assistant escorted Optimus to his seat.

"Lord Megatron has not arrived yet, he apologises for the delay," an unnamed servant greeted them with a careful smile, "please take a seat, sir."

“Of course, delays happen,” Optimus smiled in return and settled in his seat, slightly less awkward than last time, though he suspected that this was about the best they could work out for now with the constraints of the courting.

"I was charged with delivering this," the servant handed Optimus another courting gift, the box flat and just big enough to contain a datapad of some sort.

Xylofon quietly arranged the contents of his basket on a plate for Optimus.

“Thank you,” Optimus accepted the box, opening it straight away. The datapad inside was unassuming if clearly well made. So to investigate further Optimus turned it on, his optics brightened as he skimmed through the contents page.

Reluctantly Optimus put the history pad down, now was not the time for reading, “It is wonderful.”

Xylofon put the plate down in front of Optimus and smiled at him.

"My Lord has mentioned that you are very interested in history and culture," he spoke softly, "both I and Cymbal are educated and capable of holding conversation on history and culture of the collected southern Empire, at your leisure of course."

“I am very interested. History has always been of interest to me,” Optimus confirmed.

Nibbling at the plate of fuel Optimus took up the pad again, flicking through the contents to some of the stories he had been looking into. “I have recently been looking into the History of Darkmount itself, and how it was used. I have heard tales of the weavers hall, hall of the smiths. It seems to imply that when the clans gathered that they mingled, separating by profession not by clan…”

“They did, or rather they did both,” Xylofon nodded, smiling a little slyly, “those working with specific things mingled, those that gathered from the garden caves mingled, but at rest, that was clan time. And time for the delivery of courting gifts or to present one where the courtship was already serious enough to ask for the acceptance of the clan.”

“I see, I take it that cross clan courtships must have happened too. What would happen if the clan did not approve of a certain match?” Optimus frowned at the idea, totally engrossed in learning.

“Most were cross clan, an internal courtship wouldn’t have to wait till the storm season to be concluded,” Cymbal spoke up, voice soft and low, like Xylofon’s, “and there were options, they could partition the other clan, or the elder council or the Priests, even they say, Primus himself. It is said that that was how new clans were Created, when the Priests or Primus were petitioned to weigh in on a courtship that was viewed with disfavour. We do not know entirely if that is true or not, but it is pretty certain that new clans were Created by newly mated for the most part.”

“Within each clan, there was a sort of hierarchy, but everyone got a minimum of what was available to share out. If I understand it right, the hierarchy was by profession?” Optimus nodded along.

“Yes, it was not flawless of course, but the idea was that taxing work got more fuel than not so taxing work. It really only took effect in times of drought or other forms of hardship, but essentially riches were skill. Being nomadic everything had to be carried or pulled or otherwise moveable,” Cymbal continued, “so skill was awarded the only truly viable way, with fuel.”

“And respect,” Xylofon added, “skills gave respect. And using the skills for your clan and family earned you even more respect.”

“Learning multiple skills would have been invaluable then, though some skills require absolute dedication to fully master… I suppose it was more of what was needed and what path suited the individual best,” Optimus mused.

"Very much so, and some skills were shared, like hunting and gathering," Xylofon answered seriously, "but you could still be a master at either."

“Of course…” The conversation continued in that vein and went into more depth of what was known of the different eras.

Chapter Text

"Ah dear one, it is good to see you haven't been forgotten," Megatron smiled as he settled easily in his seat by the smaller mech, "I hope you can forgive the delay, I had hoped it would be shorter."

"My Lord," the two other Warbuilds murmured in stereo, bowing and pulling back to give the courting pair as much privacy as was possible at a state dinner.

“I understand there is much that demands your attention. I have been well entertained and well fueled. I am simply glad that you are here now, beloved,” Optimus purred, the affectionate term just slipping out without thought. He did give a nod of gratitude to the retreating pair.

"..." Megatron rumbled wordlessly, smiling, "it is good to hear such an endearment from you. And it is indeed making my orn to see you. I have much to tell you, much to discuss with you and your family."

“Indeed there is a lot between Wheeljack going to Vos, what Iacon is up to and what is going on with me,” Optimus agreed somewhat somberly, though he did have a shy smile at the mention of the endearment. “For now, let us talk about more pleasant things. How is the corax doing in its new home?”

“It is doing very well, my dear, and it will only grow more beautiful with the vorn,” Megatron easily let go of the heavier subjects, things that could not be comfortably discussed at a formal dinner. As for that, now that he was there everyone was taking their seats, including those few that would be at his, their, table. He had asked for only mechs that he could trust to behave towards his paramour.

“I saw that you received the history pad, is it to your liking?”

“It is. It is even more so when coupled with the ability to talk with those who also know the subject well,” Optimus purred lightly in his pleasure, nodding to a few who greeted them as they took their seats.

“I thought you would enjoy Xylofon and Cymbal, they are very knowledgeable,” Megatron nodded, pleasure clear in fields and expression, “if you would like it they can be your primary attendants while you are upgrading. I shall be with you as much as I can, but…”

“I understand. If they are both agreeable to it, then I believe I would enjoy their company,” Optimus replied sincerely. He was well aware that this was their work, however he believed it was better when given a choice. Work was far better when the mecha enjoyed it.

“You would probably have to beat them off with a stick to get rid of them,” the dry comment was from a massive warframe that sat down on the other side of the helm table, “and even then it would be iffy.”

Megatron chuckled, but clearly tried to keep his mirth down.

“Well if you say it would be iffy, I believe I would have no chance in the condition I would be in. It is a pleasure to meet you General Strika,” Optimus laughed lightly at the comment and dipped his helm respectfully to one of Megatron’s top generals.

“A pleasure too, to finally meet the one who could capture our Lord’s attention so fast,” Strika inclined her helm easily, “but please, drop the general, titles are nonsense outside of the battlefield.”

“Where have you put Lugnut, Strika?” Megatron asked, clearly suppressing mirth still, or perhaps again?

“He will come in a moment I am sure, I believe he is correcting someone on their opinion on the current Iaconian Ambassador,” Strika waved a hand in dismissal.

“As you say. I will have to insist that I no longer be called Prime, I no longer acknowledge Iacon, especially not the Elite guard and would rather do without the reminder,” Optimus decided it was time to make that opinion quite clear. He would still acknowledge the title as he had earned it, but he preferred to not use it.

“Good,” Strika said with finality, “now I wish to enjoy a game against you… hm, I realise you will be upgrading so not at your best. How many groon? Four- five?”

“As you wish it, dear one,” Megatron said with more weight behind, knowing a bit more of what it meant to Optimus to say such a thing, “I believe that your Kaonite title would be… Brigadier General, or perhaps Major General as you have seen active duty.”

“It may be the equivalent, however I have not proven myself to Kaonite standards with weapons or protocol. Until I have, I feel any such would be an empty title,” Optimus knew that gameboard tactics was a far cry from the realities that would earn such a title.

“I would not dream of pressing a title on you till you were ready and able to lift it,” Megatron said seriously, with a hint of a smile on his derma, “I was simply calculating out loud. Besides, it would be useful to see if you could take the rank once you are fully upgraded.”

“If you can give Megatron a challenge in a tactical game, you will be asked to test yourself,” Strika rumbled, optics narrowing in calculation, “unless you wish never to hold rank. Talent is not squandered here!”

“If I can earn it, then I will accept rank as well as the duties that go with it,” Optimus was very serious about that, he had always wanted to help mecha. “On a similar note, I did have an interesting conversation with a mech, Snakeskin, when I accepted the invitation to join the sparring club.”

“If yes, I am the one who will judge that,” Strika said and it was pretty easy to hear that she was not going to be swayed just because he was the romantic interest of the Warlord, “who is this Snakeskin and what did he have to say that was of interest?”

Megatron grinned, but did not comment. He didn’t need to, if Strika had been one to defer to his wants she wouldn’t hold the rank she had now.

“He is a refugee who found a mate and is now living here in Kaon. There are mecha who have talent just like him, but live in fear everyorn because of their coding. But they also fear to reach out to any Decepticon settlement due to false information,” Optimus explained, he seriously hoped that he was not about to overstep, “It might also be relevant to the border incursions.”

“Ah yes, the border towns,” Strika rumbled, tone unreadable, “a lot of waste happens in the Autobot empire, Optimus, we are aware of it. We have little in the way of solutions for it though as we cannot force the unhappy ones with us. As for further in… news of you did not make anyone happy, though few know.”

“Snakeskin did mention that he has not been back or even near that area since, despite wishing to see those he was forced to leave behind. Do none of the refugees go back to border areas?” Optimus asked, he had the shape of a solution but not the words to describe it yet.

“Those that manage to find help and do not get eaten by the desert generally have no fond memories of the Autobot council. They may miss those left behind, but consider them safer for not having contact with an undesirable,” Strika lifted her hands in an open handed gesture of helplessness, “even were they all talentless I would wish we could bring them home. Them and their families.”

“What of the Marauders? the true ones. Who are they? To my understanding they dare cross the border,” Depending on the answer Optimus could see a possible answer, though it depended on those like Snakeskin and their willingness to help others like themselves.

“Desperate mechs who think they belong to no one, who think it is better to rob monsters than to put their loved ones at risk,” Strika shrugged, “when we can, we capture them, we show them there are no monsters here. Sometimes it works, sometimes we have to put them in stasis pods. Hope we can try again.”

“Desperate and fearful, a terrible combination,” Optimus nodded, “They would not believe the words of sparked Kaonites, and have no reason to believe or trust captors no matter what they are shown. But one who had been where they are, one who could be just like themselves or their loved ones. But for one difference, they decided to go despite their fear. I suggest that, if we can find volunteers, that you send a patrol with some refugees to find and meet with, not capture, not fight, but to meet with these marauders, then perhaps they might be able to spread the truth.” Optimus offered his solution.

"Huh," Strika considered the idea for a moment or two, then shrugged lightly, "it is better than our current options. Perhaps it is a solution."

Optimus smiled but did not get a chance to say more as Lugnut chose that moment to appear and take his seat.

"GLORIOUS LORD MEGATRON," the boomed greeting was not easily ignored, "LOVELY COURTMATE OF MY LORD MEGATRON, I HOPE YOU ARE BOTH WELL."

"We are both well, thank you Lugnut," Megatron said amiably, if slightly strained.

"That is good, love," Strika petted Lugnut on his massive shoulder pauldron and then took his claw hand in hers. The giant mech learned slightly into her and fell silent, optics dimming a little.

“Back to your previous question, Strika. The current estimate for how long the upgrades will take is four groon,” Optimus decided it was best to return to that topic since that question had not been properly addressed earlier. He did nod in acknowledgment to Lugnut.

"Four groon, eh? Plenty of time to plan a game and your training," Strika turned her helm to Megatron, "I will be overseeing his training, my Lord."

It wasn't a question, it wasn't even a demand, it was delivered like a fact set in stone, as immovable as Darkmount itself.

"Naturally, my general, I would not have it any other way," Megatron rumbled, clearly amused but also just as clearly grateful.

No one would say that Strika was love struck if she judged Optimus good at something. Not if they wanted to stay in one piece.

“I am honoured,” Optimus said in response, “I also realise that it will take some time after my upgrade to relearn my frame and recondition myself. However my mind should not be affected.”

"You will have to get used to a frame that is taller, wider, heavier than now," Strika looked at him, up and down, as if he was a model she was appeasing, "hm, just as well Megatron is courting you seriously now, in four groon time you'll make everyone drool oral fluid just walking around."

She made a clicking noise, an expression of distaste, "thinking with their arrays the lot of them!"

"Unicron! Strika," Megatron hid his face plates in a huge black clawed hand, but couldn't hide the shaking of his shoulders.

"MY MATE IS RIGHT, MY LORD, BULK AND THE LITTLE FINESSES WILL ONLY MAKE HIM MORE HANDSOME," Lugnut admonished, well, as much as he ever would, "YOUR TASTE IS IMPECCABLE!"

Optimus groaned quietly but he also nodded his agreement, “I have noticed mecha appreciated my frame as it is, but I do agree it would be even more so after I am fully upgraded.”

"Perhaps I can suggest a topic change," Megatron glanced at Optimus with both worry and amusement, "the festival of the All Spark will arrive soon and Lord Predaking has invited himself to attend it here this vorn. Not that I object, but he seemed to have his reasons, yet no wish to share them."

"Hmm, is his heir coming?" Strika picked up a morsel and, apparently finding it good, gave one to Lugnut. The other giant settled back to lean against her, seemingly happy enough being taken care of by his mate. At least he didn't reach for fuel himself.

Optimus gave Megatron a grateful smile, taking the opportunity to nibble at his own fuel, noticing that the plate had been refilled for him.

“A curious but pleasing turn of events,” Optimus added, he was simply relieved that the festival should be after, soon after, but after he would finish upgrading.

"He is," Megatron nodded thoughtfully, "and I think very deliberately at that. I do not think that Predaking wishes his creation to wait quite as long as I, to find a compatible mech…"

"Hah!" Strika said without amusement, "you made it an art."

“Mmm, coding had a large part to play,” Optimus playfully defended Megatron, “Not that I am complaining for you waiting.” Optimus turned a smile at Megatron at the last bit.

"And I do not regret waiting," Megatron looked back at the smaller mech and yes, yes he did look quite besotted.

Strika made a noise of amusement, then clicked and spoke up, "do you know what he wants? Should we even try and help, hmf, I am not into this sort of thing!"

“My impression of Deathsaurus is of someone who decides their own path, and has a strong opinion about that path. Our help may not be appreciated,” Optimus mused, turning back to the subject at hand.

"He very much is," Megatron said seriously, "but so is his Sire. It is always interesting to see them match wills. And no, Strika, I have no idea what he wants in a mate. We are not precisely age mates."

"Send your courtmate to ferret it out then," Strika said with flippant teasing.

“Send? Hmm I think all I would have to do is offer a game. Not that I would know how to hold a conversation like that,” Optimus shook his helm amused at the idea. Courting was forbidden in Iacon, another reason they could get away with what they had done to him. It however left him at a disadvantage as he had had to learn it all from scratch.

"Ask him what makes him frisky," Strika suggested with a tone that had Lugnut rumble warningly at her side, "ah well, or be delicate about it and comiserate over pushy sires!"

"Hence why my general bonded on the arena sands," Megatron spoke with dry amusement, "honestly, Optimus, he may need a friendly audio but I wouldn't ask you to spy. I know all about pushy," he said with a faked baleful glare at the pair before them.

Neither seemed to care much.

“Mmm, that I can do, open and honest, and simply be his friend,” Optimus chuckled at the byplay, “That is more my style anyway.”

For a formal affair the last meal was really very friendly and intimate. It was rare that Megatron enjoyed himself so much at these events.

When it reached the end he was actually a little sorry…

"Come, dear one," he offered Optimus his arm, "let us find the ambassador."

“Of course,” Optimus smiled, accepting the arm, being careful of his new claws, they had recently shed and were quite sharp. “May Unicron guard your path, Strika, Lugnut.”

"And yours, Optimus, my Lord," Strika answered, while Lugnut simply made a chirping noise.

"Did you enjoy their company?" Megatron asked, leading his courtmate though the room towards the back where private alcoves and rooms could be found. This was not going to be an official meeting, it might well be the end of all official meetings, or at least ambassadorial official. Megatron did not waste talent!

“I did, it was a very pleasant meal. Almost cosy other than being so public,” Optimus confirmed with a light pleased purr. He did notice Xylofon tailing them carrying a refilled basket.

"Good, I was hoping for that," Megatron was very pleased. This would be a very good and productive dark cycle, perhaps even an excellent one.

"Ambassador Jazz, everyone," he greeted as he stepped inside, aware that Soundwave took up a silent position outside. This was one meeting no one would ever hear about before those involved chose so.

"Lord Megatron," Jazz bowed, and so did Prowl, Bulkhead and Wheeljack.

Optimus gave a nod to those already present and silently took his seat. He was to be a part of this, but in many ways he was also outside of it too.

"It is completely secure here, Soundwave is ensuring privacy," Megatron rumbled soothingly, "first of all and possibly most important of all, you need to decide now if you will stay Autobot or not. If I have to send you back to Iacon I fear we will not avoid a war."

"Ya confirmed the marauders as Elites, didn' ya," it wasn't a question, Jazz looked around and then squared his shoulders to look directly at Megatron, "guess ya got yaself sun new recruits, m'Lord Megatron!"

Despite already knowing everyone’s stance and opinions it was still a relief to Optimus to hear Jazz make that announcement. It was a huge step, but they had all decided individually that returning to Iacon would never be worth it.

“The next thing to consider then is work, how each of us is going to earn our way here without the support of the embassy. Of course the change over does not have to be immediate as long as Iacon still recognizes our current positions,” Optimus moved onto the next related point, mainly for Jazz himself.

"I may have a solution," Megatron paused and took a stack of datapads out of his subspace, "think of it as job offers, if you will."

Everyone read their pads in silence, but only half a breem or so when Bulkhead suddenly exclaimed, "director Sweetmetal? He recommended I be given tenure? Really?"

Jazz carefully put his own pad down and looked at Megatron, "Is this 'bout Ops or us?"

Megatron looked back steadily, "These offers are on your own merits, as individuals. I do not waste talent! It is my luck that you are all a group of very talented mechs, Marquess Jazz of Hexagon estate."

"Heh, sure, ah'll take the title, an' the job," he jerked his chin at the doorway, "ah think ah'll like the challenge, my Lord."

Optimus smiled, his own pad holding an offer for archival work, with testing and training in quite a few fields to test the actual breadth and limits to his abilities. “I am not surprised, Bulkhead, your work is outstanding.”

"It's not going to be easy, I expect you all to take the reins of your new future. I expect you all to work for it," Megatron said seriously, "this is not a hand out, this is a starting point!"

“Anyone have any concerns or questions about any of this so far?” Optimus asked, watching Wheeljack in particular, who was still staring at his offer pad.

"If I say no to this what then?" Wheeljack asked abruptly, voice sounding strained, "am… would it be possible to stay here?"

"You will always be welcomed back here," Megatron said soothingly, "I just thought, and still think, that you would benefit from saying yes. At least for a time."

“As Megatron said, this is just a starting point. For all of us. In the end the choice will always be yours,” Optimus added, wondering what it was that had Wheeljack acting like this.

"I need to think, I… I'm going with Sunstorm and Acid Storm," Wheeljack muttered, shaking his helm as he stared at the pad in his hands.

"You have all the time you want," Megatron said, "though I gather the rest of you have already decided."

Optimus nodded, looking around at the affirmations from everyone else, “Are there any other concerns or comments?”

"No, but we need to discuss how and when to cut ties entirely?” Prowl spoke up, "I'm thinking sooner rather than later?"

"I'd prefer you all move this dark cycle," Megatron said somewhat quietly, "I do not care about Iacon. But I do care about your safety and divorcing yourself visible from Iacon will make a difference. Then you must work to prove yourself."

“At the latest, for me at least, when I properly begin upgrading. But yes earlier would be better,” Optimus quietly agreed, he did wonder how that would work for himself.

"That make' sense, well," Jazz rose, "ah think it'll be a short dark cycle, m'Lord, it' time ta move."

"Soundwave will help arrange everything, if you please," Megatron turned to Optimus, "will you go with them or will you allow Xylofon and Cymbal to go and pack for you? Quarters have already been made ready for you."

“I will go with them, it has been our home, and this will be our last chance with this many of us together, likely for quite some time,” Optimus decided. He did not blame Megatron for not necessarily understanding the impact such a move could have and the closure needed. Carefully he took one of Megatron’s hands and pressed a light kiss to the palm.

"Of course, dear one," Megatron nodded, not sad per say, but… he had hoped for some alone time this evening. And yet, yes, this was a new thing.

"I would never dream of dictating your time!"

“I know. We should get more opportunities now that I will no longer be tied to the Embassy,” Optimus knew he was stalling, hesitating on leaving with the others. Bracing himself Optimus stood and lent in to give Megatron a light kiss on the cheek guard, not yet daring for more.

"The future is all possibilities," Megatron caught the other under the chin, but kept his response to a light kiss on his forehelm.

"Come back safe…"

“I will,” Optimus promised softly, he did not want to move away but knew he had to. He had to do this no matter how much he wanted to stay in this moment.

“It has been a pleasant dark cycle. I will return as soon as I can…” With that Optimus pulled back fully and left to catch up with the others.

Chapter Text

It was an odd night, packing up their lives like that. Ratchet was already there waiting, Hook and his brother's with him. The med bay, both, packed up along with Ratchet's personal room and all medically oriented datapads in the entire tower.

As Ratchet put it 'the things are damn well owed me and they can suck it up!'

He summed it up well and Jazz had turned to the rest of them and said 'nothin' bolted down, but 'es right, they owe it!'

Optimus took that idea to spark in the training rooms where he rolled up the smaller most commonly used mats, setting them in piles based on who used them most. He also took or reset the training drones, placing Prowl’s favourite one with the pile of meditation mats. The rest he left, the weapons were crude at best, not worthy of any Kanoite training ring.

Comparatively his own room was easy to strip and place into storage cubes, leaving it just as he had first found it over two vorn ago now. All of that done, Optimus went up into the actual tower itself to help Jazz sort through and pack the many pads, information they would not want Iacon to have.

“Any pads ya want?” Jazz indicated the library, already stripped of medical and scientific pads. Bulkhead had been hesitant but Prowl had packed for him, and for Wheeljack.

“Anything with historical and or cultural information. I am considering whether I should leave an edited version of the ‘welcome to Kaon’ pad behind?” Optimus mused, already looking through the remaining pads and sorting them by content.

“Hm, yeah, do… but not the courting parts,” Jazz mused thoughtfully, “it’ll be obvious what ‘appened but no need ta give ‘em knowlage ‘bout it!”

And certainly no need to make it easy for them to fake if they wanted to do that. Maybe they’d get lucky with a new batch of misfits, but Jazz did not think so, they, this, had been a convenient way to get rid of undesirables, but now that it had turned around to bite the council, he thought, rather grimly, that undesirables would meet a worse fate from now on. He couldn’t allow himself to feel guilt for it, it was too late for guilt. Too late and the impossibility of taking on the fates of an unknown number of mechs.

No, no guilt, but anger, and even hate, for the council and all they did.

“Agreed,” Optimus hummed as he worked, considering what other aspects to omit.

“I will also omit any knowledge we have on sparklings and younglings, on bondings in general… Just keep it to, the basics of how to not insult Kanoites, and the basics of fuel that will be seen at events if they must be invited…” Optimus frowned wondering if he should keep anything about how to use knives or not.

“Don’t leave stuff ‘bout utensils,” Jazz said, unknowingly reading Optimus processor, “they won’ belive it fer one thin’, and fer ‘noter they’ll end up gettin’ the wrong stuff!”

“An’ take it up with the Lord, cause that’ll help keep mechs down from declarin’ war offended.”

“Really take it all the way back to the bare struts then,” Optimus nodded. He stopped his sorting to pull out a blank pad and his intro to Kaon pad, transferring over the handful of files, “See what you think of this then,” said as he tossed it to Jazz.

“Wella, more detailed bare struts,” Jazz grinned, “Ratc’ leavin’ the updated language files, bu’ not the chirolingustics or wing speak files. Oh, keep out the deeper religion stuff too! Same reason as the utensils stuff.”

“Just move the introduction paragraph in the religion file to the ‘how not to offend file’ and remove the rest. That is the part that says which Gods each area worships most, but no details,” Optimus agreed, already back to sorting, they had too much to go through and not enough time to do it properly.

“Better take more pads than less, iffen ya think it might be worth takin’, take it,” Jazz said absently, “ah’d rather we take too much than too little… we could take everythin’ but… ah dunno iffen that’ the solution.”

“Mmm take the things that we don’t want to confirm to Iacon that we knew of, but leave some of the rest so they can’t completely say we were hiding everything… Ah we need to make it look like there was less of all of this in the first place,” Optimus sighed, wondering how they would achieve that believably.

"'Dun worry 'bout that, Hook an’ Co has it covered… Dun ask questions," Jazz recommended that with a grin.

“That is a good bit of advice,” Optimus chuckled, pushing away a full storage cube and pulling another closer.

"Ah didn' think it'd happen this fast," Jazz confessed after a breem or so of silent work, "ah didn' think 'bout the 'Con side of this. That there'd be a need ta placate them. Ah mean it makes sense, just didn't think'o it…"

“We always see things from our perspective which is coloured by everything we know, the more we have come to understand the Con’s, the more we understand their views on things and eventually their views on our own situation. All of us have undergone a massive shift in the way we look at everything,” Optimus quickly filled the next cube by simply dumping the already completed piles straight in.

“I don’t want to keep these but we really should get rid of them,” Optimus indicated a fair sized pile that was random order pads from the various shops and restaurants around.

"Just shove 'em in that box," Jazz pointed to one of the boxes he had by him, "we'll look 'em over in detail later."

Optimus nodded and did as instructed. It took far too long, well into the early joor of the new orn by the time they were satisfied with what they were leaving behind. Optimus had actually run out of snacks as he finally settled into the transport to take them to their new homes.

It was a sad goodbye in many ways, but also a hopeful one. And they all agreed to meet in half a groon, hoping they were all settled enough to allow it by then. Well, Ratchet would be, he'd already been settled, as much as one with two homes could be.

Xylofon and Cymbal were waiting on Optimus ushering him to a berth immediately upon arrival, promising him that the boxes would be in his suite, undisturbed, once he awoke.