Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/626291.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Transformers_(IDW_Generation_One)
  Relationship:
      Drift_|_Deadlock/Rodimus_Prime
  Character:
      Drift_|_Deadlock_(Transformers), Rodimus_Prime, Optimus_Prime, Ultra
      Magnus, Ratchet_(Transformers), Sentinel_Prime, Kup_(Transformers)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Teen_Romance
  Series:
      Part 2 of Knightformers_-_Rodimus_and_Drift
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-06 Updated: 2015-02-04 Chapters: 10/? Words: 39130
****** Blooming Friendship ******
by PurrV
Summary
     A IDW/AU Knightformers tale about about Drift and Rodimus, and how
     they grew up together in the Kingdom Of Iaconia, and how they
     eventually fall in love.
     What will be at first a sweet story of youthful innocence, and young
     love, will soon transform into a twisted tale of sadistic minds,
     tortured souls and loss of hope.
     The next part in my little saga. Drift and Rodimus' friendship
     continues to grow, and Drift begins to notice there is something
     strange going on in the palace.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
 Chapter One
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - training with minor violence and holding hands
--------
 Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
As the sol began anew, and the morning light began to wash over the city of
Iaconia, a young mech in white armour steadied himself as he practiced his
swordplay, completely focused on his training. Drift, took extra care as he
practiced his battle stances, his sword swings, and his concentration, wanting
to improve his over all skill, and at the same time, not accidently cut
something he shouldn't. Thankfully no one was around to disturb him, though
around the palace of the Primes he could detect, what he assumed were the
servants walking around, and the knights and guards, who were coming back from
the night watch. The best part was that he had a whole training ground all to
himself, since most of the Autobot Knights were either still in their berths,
or relaxing in the rest room. It was strange at first, for back at Crystal
City, he would train with other students. Here, the Iaconian knights didn't
train until the sol had fully risen from the horizon.
It just seemed laid back for Drift. "And I used to think I was lazy," sighed
Drift, slicing his left hand blade through the air, "I used to get up at dawn,
and even that was considered late."
Thinking back to his sols back at Crystal City, and his dojo, made the white
mech a little homesick. A whole deca cycle had passed since Drift had come to
Iaconia, to stay within the palace of the Primes, and to act as a companion for
the youngest Prime, Rodimus. At first, he had no intention of staying, even if
it was the palace of the Primes, the wondrous palace where the Primes walked
among the children of Cybertronia. He wasn't even keen to stay when he first
met young Rodimus Prime, who came off as a strange child, despite his holy
heritage. Drift was planing on begging to his sensei, to return home with him,
once his business in Iaconia was concluded. Yet after spending a short, but
interesting, short period of time with Rodimus, Drift decided he would stay.
Now he only had two more sols until Master Axe would leave him, to return to
Crystal City, and Drift had to admit he was feeling a little anxious. Master
Axe had been spending as much time with him as he could, to teach him about the
ways of the Iaconians, and the basic lifestyle they had. With him around he
didn't really feel like he was all alone, in a alien land where everything was
just odd to him. Sure Rodimus was always there, but he still felt like he was
outnumbered.
A sudden shout caught his attention. "Drift! Why do you wake up at such
horrible times?"
The white mech sighed, not at all surprised to find that Rodimus had decided to
join him. Looking over his shoulder, he was amused to see that Rodimus was
holding a mug of spicy energon, whilst donning a large thick blanket over his
small frame. "Over doing it, aren't you?" asked Drift with a cheery tone,
expressing his active mind.
The young Prime yawned, too tired to even pout at the white mech. Instead, he
gulped down a large mouthful of his spicy energon, ignoring the positive energy
Drift was giving off. "Oh be quiet, it's too early for this," he mumbled,
sitting on a nearby bench.
Drift rolled his optics, stabbing the ground with his blades, and leisurely
strolling over to where Rodimus sat. "If you don't like it, why do you bother
coming here?" he asked.
This was the third time in a row Rodimus woke up early to watch him train, and
each time the young Prime did nothing but complain that Drift was horrible for
waking up at such cycles. The young Prime clearly did not enjoy waking up this
early in the sol, that much was obvious, and Drift did admit he felt a little
pleased that Rodimus made the effort to see him, yet at the same time he felt a
little guilty. Still, it was a guilty pleasure. He still could not believe that
Primes, let alone Iaconians, could be so lazy.
Rodimus shivered, wrapping himself up in the blankets and sipping more of his
spicy energon. "Well my brothers wake up just as early as you do. Eventually
I'm going to have to, so this is practice," he declared, his legs kicking the
morning air.
"It does help if you go to bed early," suggested Drift, who didn't really know
what cycle the young Prime considered to be late enough for his recharge.
"I do go the bed early," grumbled the young Prime.
Drift had a hard time believing that, and he could tell when the young Prime
was lying. Maybe it was because Rodimus was still young, or maybe he had to get
used to waking up at early cycles, before he would stop whining. Either way,
Rodimus was going to have to deal with it, he brought this on himself. If was
going to wake up at exaggerating cycles, then he would have to learn to cope
with it.
"If it helps, keeping your body active, along with your mind, will keep you
wide awake, and you won't feel so cold," suggested Drift, standing before the
tired Prime, "So how about we spar or something?"
Rodimus looked up at Drift, and then looked over at his swords. His face
expressed his concern before Drift could even sense it. "I'm not really good
with those kind of blades Drift," he sighed.
Drift sighed in frustration. It was far too early for this, and he really
wasn't in the mood, but he wasn't about to let Rodimus get away with this. As
far as he was concerned, morning time for them was now training time, whether
Rodimus liked it or not. "Well, what melee weapon have you practiced with?" he
demanded, keen to know what other weapons Rodimus had been trained with.
Rodimus made another guilt filled expression, and looked away. "I haven't...
really found one I'm good with yet," he sighed.
"Are you serious?"
His response was a nod. "Yeah, Kup has been relentless in seeking the right
melee weapon for me, and so far he can't find me one," explained the young
Prime, "I tried a spear, but I can't hold it right. I tried a great sword, but
I haven't got the arms for it. I tried a small blades, but my grip is awful.
Optimus even tried to train me with an axe, but I handle it terribly."
Drift was trying to hold in his snickers, shocked that Rodimus had difficulty
with finding the right weapon. Back in Crystal City, a mech like Rodimus would
have been made the laughing stock, for someone unable to hold any weapon was
considered a failure. It wasn't until he sensed the anguish in Rodimus' mood,
that he realized that this was actually bothering the young Prime. His delicate
fingers tapped the side of his mug, as he huffed out his stress. Drift bit his
derma, knowing how difficult it must be not being able to handle a weapon. "You
can handle an arcane bow, right?" pointed out Drift, trying to reassure the
young Prime, "Not many mechs at your age can handle such a weapon."
Rodimus huffed, looking at Drift with weary optics. "So what? It won't help me
in close combat, and Primes are supposed to handle multiple weapons," he
sighed, his voice showing his dismay, "Optimus says I just need to find the
right one, but I'm nearly six vorns, and I haven't found one!" Rodimus suddenly
gulped back a large amount of his spicy energon, and Drift was starting to
detect anger from the young Prime. "Optimus mastered his sword and axe skills
when he was five vorns, Sentinel mastered his giga swords when he was four and
a half vorns, my father mastered his swords and lances when he was only four
vorns, and I can only handle a stupid bow. I'm nothing but a failure in their
optics!"
Without warning, Rodimus suddenly threw his half empty mug across the training
ground, the fragile container smashing upon impact. Drift stood back slightly
to avoid getting hit, looking at the young Prime with concern. Rodimus was now
slumped over, hiding his face out of shame. This was the first time Drift had
seen him like this. The white mech had not meant to stir such troubling
feelings within the young Prime, not realizing how stressful this must be for
him. It must be difficult to follow up to the expectations of your older
brothers and father, especially if you were one of holy descent. Primes were
famous for their handling of weapons, such as swords and battle axes. Since
they were descendants of the old knights, it was expected of them. For one not
being able to handle a simple sword, must have been stressful.
Drift had to help him, somehow.
Stepping before Rodimus again, he tugged at his shoulder. "If you like, I could
assess you?"
Rodimus looked up, with puzzled optics. "Assess?" he repeated with a confused
tone.
Drift nodded, hoping that this would help, but at the same time wondering if
this was such a good idea. Truth be told, he never really assessed anyone
before, only sensei's and instructors could carry out the process, but he had a
very good idea how it was done. Back at his dojo, assessing someone was to help
identify where the strong points and the weak points were located in whoever
was getting assessed. When Drift was assessed, they pointed out that he had a
pair of very good sword arms, and he was able to use them simultaneously
without difficulty. Plus his spark was quite big, meaning he could handle a
great sword without injuring himself. Rodimus should be able to handle it,
hopefully. Also, to add to injury, assessing was done at a very young age. To
assess someone who was nearly six vorns was quite embarrassing. It would be
best if he kept that part to himself.
"If we start off with simple hand to hand combat, I can see where your faults
are, maybe even find which weapon would suit you best," explained Drift,
pulling Rodimus up, the blanket sliding off his frame.
The young Prime didn't argue, showing that he was actually quite eager to be
'assessed' by the white mech. "How does this work?" he asked, following Drift
to the center of the training grounds.
"It's quite easy actually," explained Drift, trying to hide his concern, "We
just have a quick spar, and I'll be able to see where your weak points are."
Rodimus' walking pace began to quicken, even getting a skip in there. He was
clearly eager to give this a shot. "I've never sparred with anyone before!" he
explained.
Drift halted in his tracks, and spun round to look at Rodimus with shock.
"You've NEVER sparred with anyone?"
The young Prime shook his head. "No, I can't spar with anyone until I found the
right weapon. Until I do, I just have to practice on dummies."
The white mech staggered backwards in shock, for he had never heard of
something so ridiculous. "W-well... h-how... that is the dumbest thing I ever
heard!" he cried, unable to understand the stupidity of this. "No wonder you've
never found the right weapon!"
Rodimus appeared confused. "But that's how it's always been. Until we find a
weapon we are accustomed to, we can't spar with anyone," he explained, still
finding odd that Drift was upset about all this, "Until Optimus figured out he
was good with an battleaxe, he wasn't allowed to duel with anyone. Once he
found his talent for it, he had battleaxe masters come from all over to train
and spar with him. It's how we've always done it."
Drift's jaw dropped from shock. "That is stupid! You can't find the right
weapon, until you fight with one with an actual combatant! That's how we do
it!"
"Look, are you going to help me find the right weapon, or not?" sighed Rodimus,
not interested in their culture differences.
Drift gave up, no longer wanting to dwell on this any longer. He still could
not believe that Iaconians, and even Primes, did not spar with actual live
sparring partners until they found the right weapon. In Crystal City, the
moment they were assessed, they were given their weapons, and then had to spar
with fellow students. Drift remembered the first time he had to spar with his
blades. He was slow and terrible at first, his sparring partner showing off his
superiority as he dueled with him, thus making the white mech feel weak. It
pushed him to become better than his sparring partners, wanting to be as great
and skilled as they were. He was aware that Iaconians had clearly be doing
their own way for some time now, but Drift still could not believe in such a
practice.
Pushing it to the back of his mind, Drift stood with Rodimus in the sparring
ground, wanting to at least push the young Prime in the right direction. "Let's
just get this started," he sighed, flexing his limbs. "You do know basic
stances, right?"
Rodimus nodded, stretching his own muscles in preparation. "Of course I do," he
declared, eager to get started.
"Just making sure," sighed Drift, raising his arms, "OK, first I want you to
try and hit me, and I won't hit back. It's so I can see how good your are with
your ams. Now strike me!"
The young Prime grinned with enthusiasm, stepping forward with his arms raised,
ready to begin. Drift braced himself, not even sure how hard the young Prime
could hit him. Rodimus inched closer, focusing on his attack, before throwing a
fist at the white mech. Drift tried to dodge, as he was supposed to, but
Rodimus managed to strike him on the chassis. Once he managed to move to the
left, quickly recovering from the punch, Drift took a moment to think. The
white mech took note that Rodimus had a very fast throw to his punch, he barely
managed to dodge it, though his punch wasn't that hard. It could be that he was
still tired, or maybe he wasn't that strong with his fists.
"Was that your hardest?" he asked, just to make sure.
Rodimus pouted, taking it as an insult. "Of course it is," he snapped. "I'm
stronger than I look!"
"I'm just making sure," sighed Drift, "You don't have to whine like a little-"
He barely had enough time to dodge the next punch, Rodimus clearly angry at the
insult thrown at him. His punch was a little harder than the last one, but it
was the speed of his throws that caught Drift's attention. He had a very fast
arm, faster than most mechs Drift had seen. Then again, firing that arcane bow
must have strengthened his arms. The young Prime cried out as he tried to hit
Drift again, hitting him on the arm this time, as Drift tried to evade him with
a faster step. Drift had to keep moving right to left and left to right, to
avoid getting hit. He even had to move quicker, for Rodimus was very fast with
his throws.
Once he was pleased with the knowledge he had gotten from that quick tussle,
Drift stopped, raising his arms quickly to alert Rodimus that the first part
was now over. "OK, stop! I've seen enough," he shouted.
Rodimus heaved heavily, getting worked up over the free hits he had gotten.
"Giving up already?" he sneered, pleased with himself. "So how did I do? Have
you figured out which weapon I'm suited for?"
Drift sighed and shook his head. "That was just the first part, silly," he
explained in an agitated tone, "Now we can move on to the next part."
"Ooh! What's that?" asked Rodimus, instantly forgetting about the punches he
had thrown earlier.
The white mech straightened himself out as he explained. "Well I noticed that
you're really fast with your punches, they're just not strong enough,"
explained Drift, making certain that Rodimus could understand. Of course it
made the young Prime growl quietly, clearly not pleased to hear that his
punches weren't strong enough. Drift just smiled, shaking his tensed up arms.
"OK, now I'll throw the punches, and you block."
That caught the young Prime's attention. "What!?" he cried out.
"It's fine, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see how you block,"
explained Drift.
Rodimus didn't arge, sighing as he raised his arms in a defensive position.
"I'm not scared," he stated in confidence, "I just don't want to-"
Drift waited for the right moment, the moment Rodimus was caught off guard,
before he threw a punch. Rodimus reacted quite quickly, yelping as he quickly
raised an arm to block it. As Drift expected, the young Prime managed to block
the punch, his fist hitting the young Prime's forearm. Rodimus staggered back a
little, hissing upon realizing that the white mech was quite strong. Drift
didn't want to hold back, he wanted to see how fast Rodimus could be. To be
certain he threw another punch, just as quickly as the last one. Rodimus
blocked it again, his lightening fast reaction, and his fast arm movements,
preventing him from getting hit. So he threw some more, and more, pushing the
young Prime back. Not one of his punches landed anywhere on Rodimus, all of
them getting blocked. Drift kept punching again and again, until Rodimus cried
out in anger, whacking his forearm against Drift's face.
"ENOUGH!" he yelled, tired of being pushed back by the white mech.
The white mech staggered back, massaging his face where Rodimus had hit him.
Rodimus was heaving heavily, wiping off some coolant from his face, the whole
ordeal wearing him out. Though his punches involving his fists weren't as hard,
his attack with his forearm was quite hard. It might have been from the stress,
but the white mech could see where Rodimus' strength was.
Rodimus, however, was still upset. "I thought we were sparring, but that was a
full on attack," he shouted, his fists trembling in rage. "You're such a jerk,
trying to hit me like that. I should have you slapped in irons!"
"Well I can't assess you if I go easy on you," grumbled Drift, making sure his
jaw was broken from that hit, "And besides, I think I found your where your
strength lies."
"You have?" asked Rodimus, his mood suddenly changing.
Drift nodded, walking over and taking Rodimus' arms in his hands. "You have
very fast reactions, and your forearm attacks are actually more stronger than
your hand attacks. In time your punches will be more powerful, but I believe I
know what weapon will suit you."
Rodimus suddenly got excited enough, hopping on the spot. "Really? What one?
Which one? Tell me!" he pleaded, eager to know.
Drift sighed, "I have to ask my sensei first, because I'm pretty certain your
country doesn't have it." The white mech looked back at Rodimus' arms, knowing
very well they were delicate, besides being quite powerful, "The last thing I
want is to cause trouble."
Rodimus suddenly began to giggle, making the white mech look at him with
questioning optics. The young Prime just looked back at him, with an odd smile,
his cheeks flushed a little as he stared at him. Drift blinked, wondering what
he had done, for he hadn't done anything to make him laugh like that, he had
been quite serious this whole time. It was that Drift realized how close he was
standing next to the young Prime, their faces were mere inches apart. He was
able to get a closer, and more accurate, look at that young and pretty face.
He had told himself many times, way too many times to count, but there was no
denying that Rodimus was far too beautiful for his own good. It must have been
a perk for the Primes, to have such beautiful looks. Sentinel Prime was like a
god, and even gave off the aura of one. Optimus Prime was like a divine
creature, and Rodimus looked like he had just fallen from the heavens, as if he
was a present from celestial beings. The white mech had shamefully fantasied
what it would be like hold him in a lovers embrace, to smell his scent from his
delicate neck, to caress his delicate frame, to feel his spark pulsing against
his as their chassis touched. To think of such things with a Prime was
disrespectful, but Drift could not help it. His personality was weird, but
Rodimus Prime was just perfect when it came to his looks.
The young Prime giggled again, and then gave Drift a funny look. "So Drift, how
long are you going to hold my arms for?"
Drift blinked and then looked back down at his hands. He then realized that he
had been holding Rodimus' arms for quite some time, and it was starting to get
awkward. Blushing a little, he quickly let go anf spun around to hide his
blushing face. The young Prime giggled as Drift flushed like mad, the white
mech upset that he had been made a fool of. "L-let's just leave it for today,"
he grumbled, "I'm hungry now."
Rodimus laughed, and playfully slapped Drift on the arm. "Whatever you say," he
laughed, following Drift as they headed back inside.
TBC
***** Chapter 2 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Two
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - T
Warnings so far - a moody Prime and past reference to a child being injured
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
One vorn old in cybertronian years - 2 years old in human years
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
It was a pleasant afternoon, and Drift had enjoyed his training. In fact he was
feeling a little smug, unable to hide a huge grin plastered on his pale face as
he walked though a golden and scarlet hallway. He got to show off in front of
the Autobot knights, who at first mocked him for his height and lack of armour.
Yet the moment they saw him perform his beautiful yet deadly sword skills,
their jaws fell from their faces, and some of them even cried in anguish. He
couldn't resist showing off, and found it amusing that these "proud" knights
were weeping upon realizing that someone so young could surpass them. He had
hoped Rodimus would watch alongside them, but he had his lessons and more of
his training.
It would be rather invigorating, to have the young Prime cheer for him before
these so called knights. How jealous they would be, to see how their young
Prime preferred him over his own subjects. He could already sense how jealous
they were of him. Some of them were even tempted to challenge him, but after he
slashed at the very air around them, they backed down rather quickly. He even
heard some of them talking, about how lucky the white mech was to observe
Rodimus Prime train. They weren't so privileged.
"Which reminds me," he pondered to himself aloud, " I have to inform Sir Kup
about my recommendation for him." He hoped he would listen, but since he was a
living legend among the Iaconians, it might be awkward for him to take advice
from someone so young. Maybe if he asked Master Axe to ask for him, hopefully
he would listen.
Drift decided to spend some time in the grand library before meeting up with
Rodimus, and learn a thing or two about Iaconian customs. He had caused quite a
fuss over this little issue, and there were still so many things he had no clue
about. Thankfully he was informed that everything he would need to know was
located in the library, and he had already learnt a few things from reading
some of the material within. It was also quite peaceful in there, the white
mech able to let his mind wander as he filled his head with knowlege. That is
until Rodimus showed up to drag him away.
He wasn't that far from the library and as he approached the next hallway that
would lead him there, he suddenly detected that someone was nearby. Looking up
he spotted some movement and soon found that, none other than, Optimus Prime
had just appeared in the next hallway. The red and blue Prime was heading in
the other direction, and had not noticed Drift as he walked on by. Drift,
wanting to greet him, waved his hand and called out, "Good afternoon, Optimus
Prime."
To his surprise, Optimus ignored him and continued to walk on, rather slowly in
fact. He appeared to be in some sort of daze or something, his optics staring
straight ahead and unfocused. Drift wasn't sure if he had been heard or not,
but decided no to shout out again, since this was considered rude in Iaconian
customs. It would be best to approach him and ask him directly, rather than
calling him out again.
Taking a few steps forward, the white mech suddenly gasped out loud, clutching
his aching spark. "W-what?" he gasped, staggering back, his optics wide open
with terror.
In all his life, he had never once felt such... such horrible and depressing
feelings. A sadness that was deeper than any ocean, anger that was powerful
than any storm, hatred that stretched further than the world itself, dread that
made him worry for his own life. The malice that had suddenly appeared
overwhelmed him, causing the poor thing to fall to his knees. It was like
someone had suddenly wrapped their hands around his throat and was slowly
choking him. Like someone had grabbed his spark and was squeezing the life out
of it. For a split moment he thought he went blind. For a split moment he
thought he was drowning in a sea of dark muck of bitterness. It was horrible.
He wanted to cry. He gasped, trying to clear his vents desperately. He thought
he was going to die.
Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished.
Drift gasped as the dark tension finally freed his body, and he was able to
relax, venting hard. He had to grab his throat to make certain there was
nothing twisting around it, though he was almost certain that someone had held
it. "W-what was that?" he gasped, standing back onto his feet. What could have
created such a force of bitter hatred and unbearable sadness? Was that coming
from Optimus Prime? It couldn't be, he was always so nice and kind. Rodimus was
always talking about how he was such a caring and gentle brother, one who never
expressed any hatred or sadness before him. There was no way such horrible
feelings were coming from him. Someone else had to be around, that happened to
walk in the same time Optimus had, maybe from behind, where he couldn't see.
Once he had fully recovered, he looked around. No one else was around, and
Optimus Prime was long gone. Had those horrible feelings emerged from the red
and blue Prime, or had someone else walked past without him noticing? Forcing
his stiff legs to move, he walked forward until he reached the next hallway,
and peered around. Optimus had vanished, and so had the dark sensation that had
overwhelmed him. He couldn't detect another presence before him, but he still
refused to believe such feelings came from the kind Prime.
"What are you doing?" came a voice, that made Drift jump. Looking over his
shoulder, he was surprised to see that Ultra Magnus had somehow approached him
without him noticing. The strict mech seemed as moody as ever as he strode over
to the white mech, still not at happy that Drift was staying at the palace.
"I'll ask again," he sighed angrily, "What are you doing?"
Drift, still shocked that such dark feelings could exist tried to explain. "I
was on my way to the library when..." he paused for a moment, looking down the
hallway, where Optimus had walked down.
Ultra Magnus huffed, now starting to get impatient. "When what?" he asked in a
demanding tone.
Looking back at the blue and white mech, Drift wondered if it was him who had
been in the foul mood, yet all he detected from him was annoyance, stress, and
a little bit of anger. It couldn't have been him, he may be carry a foul
personality, but he certainly couldn't have been the one who had been
expressing such woeful and terrible feelings. Though he wondered if Ultra
Magnus knew if something was wrong with Optimus? The two worked together, and
Rodimus admitted that half the time, he felt like Ultra Magnus was trying to
steal him away from him. "Ultra Magnus, sir?" he asked, wanting to be certain,
"Is Optimus... feeling alright?"
The blue and white mech gave him an odd look. "What are you talking about?" he
snapped.
"Oh, it's just... " the white mech explained, twisting his hands together, " I
saw him a moment ago, and he seemed... strange." Drift wasn't entirely sure how
to explain this, and he didn't like the way Ultra Magnus was looking at him.
Maybe using the term "strange" wasn't going to help explain this. "H-he just
seemed like he was... um... sad or something. I just assumed he was upset,
because when I called out to him he ignored me. Is he feeling alright?"
He was half expecting Ultra Magnus to shrug him off and tell him to mind his
own business, followed with a quick telling off, but the white and blue mech
seemed to ponder on this, and then glanced up at a Chronos-sphere. He suddenly
bore a bitter expression, and frowned " I see... that time already," he sighed,
completely forgetting that Drift was stranding there. To Drift's surprise,
Ultra Magnus stood there like a statue, and was giving off a strange aura. The
white mech could detect feelings coming from him, different than the ones he
usually carried. He bore sadness, pain and a surprising amount of guilt that
seemed to weigh him down. There was even some anger hidden in there, but he
seemed to be holding it back with surprising force. Was there something he
didn't know? It was then quickly replaced by his usual emotions, and he glared
down at Drift. "It's none of your concern. Optimus Prime has been busy of late,
and the last thing he needs is for you to disturb him." He then shoved past
Drift, and walked down the hallway Optimus had passed through.
Drift sighed, and carried on his way. He found it strange though, that Ultra
Magnus would walk off without telling him off. So far during his stay, he had
told him off for anything he did, from saying something improper to doing
something that was considered strange. Now it just seemed like he wanted to get
away from him quickly. Maybe he was right, maybe Optimus had been so busy that
he had switched off his senses. Yet that didn't explain where that dreadful
feeling came from.
He sighed as he entered the library at last. "Maybe my reading was just off,"
he wondered out loud. "It's not the first time I read someone wrong."
"Read what wrong?" came a voice.
Drift nearly jumped out of his armour and stumbled backwards upon hearing the
sudden voice. As he clutched his surprised spark, in order to calm it, he
looked up to see who had surprised him so. To his surprise it was Rodimus. "W-
what are you doing here?" he asked, in an angry tone, "I thought you were
training?"
Rodimus shrugged. "Ol' Kup needed to take care of something, so I got the
afternoon off," he explained, in excited tone in his voice. "Prowler told me
you'd be here, so I waited."
"And so you decided to scare me half to death?" grumbled Drift, standing back
up straight.
The young Prime just giggled. "You were the one who got scared," he pointed
out. "Now, what did you read wrong? You don't have a datapad in your hands."
It was then that Drift realized that he never told Rodimus about his ability to
read senses, he always talked about it but Rodimus never understood what he
meant by it. Apparently, not many mechs in Iaconia could practice such a skill.
"Well... I can sort of tell what others are feeling," he explained. "I can tell
when they're really happy, or even angry."
Rodimus tilted his head, giving Drift a dumb look. "I can tell when others are
angry," he said, not understanding what Drift was talking about it. "All I have
to do is look at them."
"Oh no," sighed Drift, scratching his helm as he tried to think of a suitable
way to explain this. "That's not what I meant at all... um, how do I say this.
Let's say, for example, you meet with someone who appears happy. You would
think he's happy, but when I read them, I can tell what they're really
feeling."
Rodimus seemed to understand, yet he still appeared confused. "Why would you
need such a skill?" he asked.
"Easy," laughed Drift, "If I was to bump into someone, who acted friendly to
me, but I sense that they contain hostile feelings, I could prepare myself
before I get surprised."
Rodimus clapped his hands together, now understanding what it was all about.
"So it helps you detect assassins and bad guys?"
Drift nodded, "I suppose you can think of it like that. We call it Reading; to
read ones mind."
"So you can read anyone?" he asked, his tone expressing his excitement. "If I
ask you to read someone, you can tell me what they're really feeling?" Drift
responded with a nod, and Rodimus' grin grew wider. It was then that Drift
realized that maybe to young Prime wanted him to abuse the power of his skill
on certain individuals, which meant he was going to be reading a lot of mechs
he didn't want to read.
Drift suddenly thought back, to when he sensed those foul feelings from Optimus
Prime. Ultra Magnus never gave him a straight answer, so maybe Rodimus knew
what was really wrong with his brother. "Rodimus, has Optimus been feeling
alright lately?" he asked.
Rodimus gave Drift another strange look, but appeared to understand what he
meant. "Why? Did you see him out of it?" he asked.
Drift nodded. "Yes, he ignored me when I called out to him, and he seemed to be
in a foul mood."
The young Prime uttered an upsetting sound, his face bearing a pained
expression. "He's usually like that on some sols," he sighed, folding his arms
and looking of in the distance "There are some sols when he's as kind and
loving as a brother could get. Then there are the sols when he completely
ignores me, and snaps at anyone who tries to talk to him." Drift found that
hard to believe, given Optimus' kind nature, but Rodimus was speaking the
truth. Reading him now, he could sense that he was upset, revisiting memories
he did not wish to remember. "In fact, one day, when I was somewhere between
three to four vorns old, I found him in one of those moods, so I asked him what
was wrong." He looked over at Drift with a bitter smile. "He turned around and
slapped me."
The white mech could not contain his gasp of shock. "He... slapped you?"
Rodimus nodded, looking away again. "I was so shocked I ran back to my room and
cried. I couldn't understand why he hit me," he lamented, leaning against a
table, "But a few cycles later, he ran into my room, picked me up, and hugged
me. I remembered as he rocked me in his arms, saying "I'm sorry" over and over,
until his voice went hoarse." Standing back up, the young Prime bit his lip,
bearing a troubled expression. "I asked Ratchet, what was wrong with him, and
he told me that Optimus suffers from mood swings, or something. They say it all
started when..." He stopped talking for a moment as he thought about it. It was
almost as if he no longer wished to talk about it.
"You... don't have to continue, if it makes you feel uncomfortable," he
empathized, stepping forward, "I can see that this is upsetting you."
The young Prime suddenly smirked at him. "You read me, right?" he chuckled
lightly. Drift smiled back, unable to resist nodding. Rodimus laughed as he
brushed off the bad moment, and put on his need for adventure mood. "Well let's
forget about that, and go have an adventure!"
Drift bit his lip this time, wondering what the young Prime had in mind. Last
time Rodimus suggested going on an adventure, they ended up lost in some garden
maze, after Rodimus admitted he didn't know how to get out. "What did you have
in mind?" he asked, not wanting the gardener to rescue them again.
Rodimus smirked at him. "I have decided to let you help me seek out something,
that I have been looking for some time!" he responded.
"Oh?" mumbled Drift, "What would that be?"
The young Prime answered by grabbing his arm, and lead him out of the libriay,
striding down the hallway with him. As they walked, Rodimus explained what they
were up to. "We're looking for a door!" he stated. "A door?" repeated Drift,
confused at the very idea. "Yes, a door, but not any ordinary door!" The young
Prime paused, and turned to look at him. "I have been seeking this door for
quite a while now, and now that I have you helping me, I should find it rather
quickly."
Drift was still confused. "But why a door?" he asked.
They began walking up a flight of stairs as Rodimus explained. "Well you see, a
long time ago, when I was really young, I got lost and wandered around the
palace." Drift wasn't at all surprised that someone could get lost in this
place, especially at such a young age. Rodimus continued, as they walked
through down a hall filled with statues of knights, "I kept walking until I
found myself standing before this golden door, covered in red patterns, with a
silver maiden etched into it."
"I've never seen such a door," explained Drift, who was quite certain he
hadn't. "It wouldn't surprise me," laughed Rodimus, excited that they were
seeking the door in question, "I've been looking for it for so long, I'd be
quite annoyed if you found it before I do."
It wasn't quite what Drift had in mind, to be looking for some golden door, but
at least it kept him busy. He did admit he was a little intrigued, wondering
why Rodimus would be seeking such a door in the first place. Soon they were
running around the palace like little children playing hide and seek. Maids
would give them questioning looks, and knights on patrol look on with
curiosity. Rodimus and Drift ignored them all, wanting to find the golden door
with red patterns. They looked down hallways, peered into towers, ran up every
staircase they could find, and even walked into rooms they were not supposed to
visit. They even peered out windows, and wandered into strange chambers, yet
they could not find the door they were looking for. There were silver doors,
jade doors, and even doors made from jewels, but they never came across a
golden door. They did find one eventually, but it was covered in blue patterns,
not red.
Time marched on, and the two young mechs took a quick break on a bench near a
window. Rodimus was thinking where else they could look, whilst Drift was
fairly certain that, despite running around like mad, he hadn't even seen a
tenth of the palace. Drift was also wondering why Rodimus was looking for this
door. Why was he seeking it? Was there something special behind it? Wanting to
know, he sat up and asked Rodimus straight out, "What is so special about this
door, Rodimus?"
Rodimus sighed, tired of their little adventure, but still eager to go on
looking, after a quick rest. He looked at Drift, with a casual expression.
"Well, when I found this door, I heard funny sounds coming from within," he
explained. "So I reached for the handle, pulled it open, and then..." He paused
for a moment, as if he was trying to think. Drift stared at him, waiting for
him to finish. "Then what?" he asked, eager to know what Rodimus saw. The young
Prime sighed and looked away from him. "I can't remember."
Drift blinked. "You forgot?" he asked, making certain he heard right.
The young Prime nodded with a response. "I can't remember what happened after I
opened the door," he sighed. "I remember pulling it open, but after that
everything is blank. The next thing I remember was waking up in my room, with
Optimus sitting next to me." Rodimus folded his arms as he tried to recall his
muddled up memory. "I asked Optimus about it, but he insisted that I had fallen
asleep in the hallway, where he found me."
The white mech pondered on this. "Did... you ask anyone else about this door?"
he asked.
Rodimus nodded, "I asked all around, but no one has seen this door. I asked the
maids, I asked the knights, I even resorted to asking Ultra Magnus, but they
all said the same thing. Even Optimus said I must have dreamed it up or
something." The young Prime huffed, and suddenly noticed that Drift was giving
him a questioning look. "I haven't made it up!" he snapped, "I remember it
clearly, I just can't remember what happened when I opened it."
"I'm not saying I don't believe you," fumed Drift, who wasn't all questioning
the young Prime, "It's just you were so young at the time, right? What if this
door was replaced? Or even built over?" He was answered with a furious shake of
the head. "It can't have been! I know it's here somewhere, and I won't give
up." With that said, Rodimus jumped up, ready to carry on with his search for
the golden door. "Come on then, we still got the eastern most wing to search."
Drift sighed, standing up and following him. He was curious as to why there was
a gap in Rodimus' memory after opening a door. Did he dream it up? Or did he
truly find such a door? If there was such a door, what happened after he opened
it? Well, if they do find it, they would have to open it to find out. However,
due to the size of the palace, Drift doubted he would ever find it before he
had to leave.
The pair carried on until they walked out onto an outdoor walkway, that
surrounded a large garden far below them. Drift peered down, admiring the
garden as they walked past. The short walls that surrounded the walkway was
designed in a strange way, with small gaps in between them. If Drift had been
any smaller, he'd be able to fit through them, and it was a long way down.
Looking up ahead, he noticed that Rodimus had paused before one of the small
gaps, staring at it with strange optics. Drift could sense that he was
troubled, and he wondered why.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, standing just behind the young Prime.
Rodimus sighed and looked at Drift, expressing that he was upset about
something. "Remember when I told you that my brother, Optimus, developed
strange mood swings?" he asked. The white mech nodded, wondering what brought
it up. The young Prime sighed, looking back at the gap in the wall. "When
Optimus was over a vorn old, he was standing right here, and then he was...
pushed."
Drift felt a sense of overwhelming dread fill him when Rodimus uttered the word
"pushed" and they happened to be standing near a gap, big enough for a one vorn
old to walk through. He looked at the gap in the wall, where it lead to a long
drop to the garden below. "He was... pushed?" he repeated, not sure if he could
believe such a thing.
"Yes... my father was holding a private function in the garden at the time,"
explained Rodimus, "They told me that whilst everyone was in the garden,
Optimus was up here watching... when a maid pushed him." Drift's jaw dropped
upon learning this. A maid pushed Optimus off a wall? Why on Cybertronia would
a maid do such a thing to a Prime, a child in fact? Rodimus leaned upon the
wall, and looked down at the garden far below. "They said there was blood
everywhere, and the nobles screamed. Father was furious, and had the maid
brought down, whilst Optimus was rushed to the healing chambers. They said she
lost it, and my father beheaded her, right down there." Drift peered down as
well, gazing down at the peaceful garden. To think that such a peaceful place
had once been a place filled with chaos, made him feel strange. "They say that
ever since that day, Optimus had started acting strangely. They think it
affected his mind."
The young Prime sighed and looked back at Drift. "The strange thing is, Optimus
never talked about it. Ultra Magnus only told me about it, just in case I might
say something to upset him."
Drift was still shocked to hear that someone had tried to kill a Prime. Someone
had attempted to kill a young Prime, right before his father. Why? Why would
someone do such a thing? What could have driven someone to commit such a
disgusting act? "Why did she do it?" he asked, not even thinking if this was
something that should not be asked.
Rodimus frowned. "They say she was a rebel from Kaonol, who wanted revenge for
the strict laws we enforced over there," he explained. "They hate us over there
at the moment, and thought that by seriously hurting one of the Primes would
send a message," he said with a sigh.
The white mech still could not believe that such a traumatic thing had happened
to Optimus at such a young. He knew that the Kaonol's weren't lovers of
Iaconia, nor it's laws, but he didn't think they would stoop so low as to
attempt to murder a young Prime. He had lived there once, when he was very
young, until he was brought to Crystal City. He remembered that Kaonol was a
dark nation, with bleak skies, and dangerous citizens. Drift suddenly found he
was ever more ashamed of his heritage, his Sire being a Kaonol whilst his
Carrier was from Crystal City. He barely remembered his Carrier and his Sire...
those were memories that were better left alone.
The young Prime sighed, looking at Drift with concern. "Do your people hate
us?"
Drift suddenly looked up at Rodimus, and shook his head. "No, we could never
hate you!" he exclaimed, shocked to think Rodimus could think of such a thing.
"We, from Crystal City, could never hate the Primes, you're holy to us."
That didn't seem to convince the young Prime. "But your sensei is here to sort
out some laws we enforced in your land," he claimed, "I heard him say, quite
clearly, that the people of Crystal City were upset."
The white mech bit his glossa as he tried to think of how to explain this. "It
is... true that there were some laws that have upset some people, but Master
Axe has assured me that these have been sorted out, and my people are much
happier now."
It was true, Master Axe had managed to sort out the issue he had been sent to
sort out, and yet Rodimus still seemed saddened by all of this. He looked back
at the spot, where many stellar cycles ago, his brother was attacked in a
horrible way, just because someone from another land was angry at them. Drift
was unsure of what to say. He did admit, he was surprised that Rodimus was
actually concerned with such issues, despite his child like behavior and he
could see why it would upset him. There were, sadly, some people who hated the
Primes, and many of them were from Kaonol. Master Axe had told him that Kaonol
was once a lawless nation, until the Primes came in, and added it to their
empire. He could only assume that the Kaonols just wanted their lawless
lifestyle back, and they blaming the Primes as an excuse.
"I wouldn't dwell on it too much," suggested Drift, patting Rodimus on the
back, "I'm certain one day, everything will work out between all the nations in
Cybertronia, and we can all live in true peace."
Rodimus looked to him. "You think so?" he asked.
Drift nodded, absolutely certain that this was true. "It is said, that a Prime
will lead the people of Cybertronia to true peace. It will take time, but I
believe that you, your brothers, and your father will bring peace to this
world."
The young Prime smiled in a calming way, the words that Drift had spoken seemed
to had made him feel better. If one such as Drift believed that peace would
soon bloom within the world, then maybe it would. The young Prime looked up at
the clear blue sky, and closed his optics. "All I want is a world where me and
Optimus can live in, where neither of us would have to be upset ever again," he
whispered gently. He then grinned in his usual way, and looked at Drift. "Oh,
and you too," he laughed.
Drift blushed, and quickly looked away to hide his red face. "A-aren't we
looking for some door or something?" he asked, wanting to change to subject.
"Ah yes, we were!" replied Rodimus suddenly, "Come on then, I want to find it
before tea time!"
The two young mechs carried on with their adventure, the pair of them feeling
better about themselves. Though Drift still could not help but wonder, if the
fall had really caused Optimus Prime to develop a strange mood swing, that
affected him to this day.
TBC
***** Chapter 3 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Three
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - saying goodbyes, and rude conversations
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
The time Drift had spent in Iaconia had flown by so fast, he had failed to
realise that this was the sol when Master Axe would leave him in the care of
the Primes, and return to Crystal City. He knew this sol was to pass, but it
had arrived so suddenly that the white mech was unprepared for it. He wasn't
certain what to do, and didn't know what to say. Already the great burning sol
was high above them in the golden rose sky, and the vessel, that Master Axe
would be traveling home in, was ready to depart for it's long journey. Master
Axe was already saying his goodbye's to the Princes, blessing the Senators and
Noblemechs for aiding his people, and thanking them all for their respectful
hospitality during his stay. Drift could not believe that this would be the
last time he would see his Sensei, for at least another two stellar cycles. Two
stellar cycles. That was nothing to the almost eternal lifespan of an
Cybertronian, but to Drift it felt like an eternity without end.
He stood, proud with head held high, next to Rodimus Prime, who was currently
saying his goodbyes to the wise elder. Drift tried to remain poised and polite,
wanting to keep a mask of confidence over his pain, but he could feel it was
starting to falter as time ticked on. He carefully glanced over at his Sensei,
now speaking with the young Prime. Rodimus was acting like his kind and polite
brother, talking with a proud and sincere tone, whilst standing in a graceful
and dignified form. Drift actually had a hard time to decide where his optics
should be looking; either at the rare sight of a composed Rodimus, or his
beloved Sensei who he won't see for another two stellar cycle. He could hear
hundreds of voices in his head, all of them telling him to do different things
to keep his Sensei from leaving. One told him to hope that Rodimus would keep
talking with him, so that he would remain longer. One strange voice told him to
latch his arms around his Sensei, and beg him to stay. Another was telling him
to ignore all these voices, and just accept it. One even told him to challenge
him to a dual, and if he lost to Drift he would have to stay. That voice must
have emerged from his clueless side, for he knew that challenging Master Axe
was pure suicide.
Just when he thought that time had actually slowed down for a change, Master
Axe finally stood before him, his shadow causing the white mech to flinch by
accident. The elder mech chuckled as Drift quickly stood to attention, and
cautiously peered up at him. His ancient yet well structured face bore a warm,
and almost sad smile, as he looked down upon his young student. Drift could
only stare back, not realising that his optics had swollen and his lips were
quivering. The bitter tense silence between them was almost unbearable. It only
felt like a night ago when he was discussing with his Sensei about the melee
weapon choice for Rodimus Prime. The following sol, Master Axe told him that he
had spoken with Sir Kup, and he was already organising a personalised order for
the young Prime. The sol after that, both Drift and Master Axe were constantly
pestered by Rodimus, the young Prime determined to know what weapon he was to
train with. Neither of them told him, the pair wanting it to be a surprise.
Rodimus threaten Drift with childish threats, but Drift only laughed and told
him that it would be worth the wait. Truthfully he wanted Master Axe to be
there when Rodimus received his surprise weapon, the pair of them watching as
the young Prime would cheer with delight, as he clutched it in his arms.
Although he was looking forward to that moment, he had hoped Master Axe would
have stayed to see it too.
Shaking his head to clear this hopeful thoughts, Drift knew it was selfish of
him to want Master Axe to stay. He had to return home, to deliver his news to
Grand Master Dai Atlas and the other members of the circle, and to continue
training his other students. Drift could survive here without him, even though
at the same time, he couldn't. He knew enough of the Iaconian lifestyle to get
by, without causing any offence, but there was so much more Master Axe could
teach him. But he had to let him go. He had to go back, for the sake of their
people. He had no more business here, and the Circle would be eager to hear
what had transpired during his time in the grand capital.
The wise old mech smiled at him, placing the palm of his hand upon Drift's
brilliant white helm. "Drift, you were never good with farewells," he chuckled,
gently caressing his student in a affectionate way. "In fact, neither am I. All
I can offer to you now, is but one simple piece of advise, from a teacher to
his student."
Drift cleared his mind, ready to receive the last piece of wisdom from his
Sensei. Master Axe bore a gentle smile as he leaned in closer to his young
student, carefully whispering into his audio, as if he wanted no one else to
hear what he had to say. "No matter how far apart we are, no matter how much
time has passed between us, we will always be connected. So if you ever feel
alone and scared, just remember that, even though I'm not there in the
protoform, I am there within your spark."
Before, Drift would have rolled his optics, and proclaim that he knew such
things and that there was no point in telling him, but right now it was
something that he wanted to hear.His spark cried out in need for such words,
and even though it had been given what was wanted, it still craved more, but
Drift knew these words were enough. It gave him hope that no matter how
isolated he felt, his teachers and his fellow students would always be there in
spirit, thus he was never truly alone. It would be the first time he would be
far apart from those he called master and brother, but Drift was now confident
that he would be able to walk on his own two feet. He'd be lying if he said he
wasn't scared, yet at the same time he wasn't. The fear was now slowly being
replaced with excitement, and the knowledge that the Primes would watch over
him made him feel at ease with his duty in this new land. As Master Axe pulled
away, Drift gracefully smiled up at him, and saluted him the way all members of
the circle would salute each other. He didn't need words to tell him how he
felt, or to say his farewell. He knew his Master Axe followed his goodbye,
before slowly turning his back to him and walking away. The white mech could
only stand there and watch as his Sensei was finally leaving his side.
Before he knew it, Rodimus had managed to shift a little closer to him and
leaned over so he could whisper something into his audio. "You know, you could
leave with him now, if you like?" This statement surprised the white mech, and
he look at the young Prime with a face filled with shock. Rodimus merely looked
back, bearing an expression of guilt, and he was biting his lip. "I don't mind.
Really, I don't," he continued.
Though he said that, meaning to be kind and supportive, Drift could sense that
he was hoping that he wouldn't go but, much to Drift's embarrassment, the young
Prime didn't want to see him in pain. His emotions were mixed up; he wanted
Drift to stay and remain his friend, but he didn't want him to be sad, and if
returning home would make him happy then he would gladly, if not regrettably,
let him go. In fact it never accrued to Drift that this would be his last
opportunity to return home. Master Axe had told him that if he ever changed his
mind, he would take him back to Crystal City and no one would say anything. He
had thought about it a couple of times, when Rodimus managed to push him into a
cloud of doubt, and cause him nothing but stress, but after a while of
understanding what the young Prime was like, he had gotten used to it. The
young Prime wasn't so bad, once you understood him.
He formed a small smile, before looking over at the young Prime. "Someone has
to keep their optics on you," he said with a false sigh, "Master Axe would have
done it himself, but he has duties that exceed your needs." These words, that
Ultra Magnus would have found offensive, actually made Rodimus snort it
laughter. He gave the white mech a discreet nudge, before standing back in his
spot. Drift smiled a little, upon feeling the relief rushing through the young
Prime's being.
It still embarrassed him that Rodimus was happy to have him stay, and even more
so when he felt that he was actually concerned about his own happiness. He was
aware that before his arrival, Rodimus had been depressed and lonely. Optimus
had tried everything to make his little brother happy, before asking Master Axe
and Grand Master Dai Atlus if they could spare a young mech to be his
companion. To think that his mere presence impacted the young Prime's life,
made him feel proud in an odd way. In fact, thinking of Rodimus Prime as a
friend felt odd. Drift had a handful of friends back home so he knew what it
meant to have a bond with someone, but with Rodimus it felt weird. Maybe it was
because he was a Prime? Or was it something else?
Lost in his thoughts, he almost failed to watch Master Axe climb aboard the
vessel that would take him back to their faraway home. As the gangway rose to
seal the entrance of the grand ship, Master Axe turned to give one final wave
of farewell. Drift was able to wave back, before the entrance was fully sealed,
the engines of the great vessel whirring into life. The last he saw of his
sensei was his ancient smiling face. Already the organised crowd around them
began to disperse, giving Drift the excuse to walk over to the edge of the
platform as the vessel rose higher into the sky. The engines roared louder, and
it rose higher and higher, eventually turning towards the horizon. Drift
watched with a heavy spark as the ship began to fly further away, the only
connection to his homeland onboard and now leaving him in a land he did not
fully understand. Clinging to the railings, Drift found it hard to look away,
and a small tinge of regret began to creep into his mind.
He continued to watch the ship fly away, even when Optimus Prime, along with
Ultra Magnus, came up behind him. The older Prime was clearly concerned with
the white mech, after watching his Sensei leave him. Ultra Magnus however
didn't seem to care, and appeared eager to leave and carry on with his duties.
Rodimus stood nearby, not sure what he should say, and hoped his brother would
say something to make Drift feel better.
Drift almost flinched when Optimus spoke directly behind him, in a low and
comforting tone. "I understand that this must feel difficult for you Drift, and
there is nothing I can say that will possibly make you feel any better." The
older Prime then stepped forward, placing his large hand on Drift's shoulder.
"If there is anything you need, anything at all, then do not hesitate to ask
for it." They were kind words, but Drift still felt like there was a weight
upon his spark.
Ultra Magnus had clearly lost his patience, and stepped forward to address his
Commander. "Optimus Prime, there is business that we must attend to. There is
no time to dry the tears of this sparkling."
Drift turned, and hissed angrily at the insult. He would not tolerate being
treated in such a way with his sensei gone. "I am not a sparkling!" he spat,
angry at such a remark. "Can one not feel upset in this land, or do you just
lack the emotions to even shed a few tears?" He did not care if this would get
him into trouble, but he had enough of this rude and uncaring mech. He didn't
even back away when Ultra Magnus glared at him with optics full of rage, his
frame trembling with anger, and a ferocious snarl trying to force it's way out
of his vocals.
Before he could even step forward to grab the white mech and lecture him,
Optimus Prime raised his arm to bar him from doing so. "Ultra Magnus, allow him
some space," he ordered, his tone almost harsh, and the glare in his optics
colder than the ones he was looking at. Even the way he looked at the rude mech
was almost empowering, in a scary way. It was enough to make Ultra Magnus back
down.
Optimus looked back at Drift, the white mech still angry at what Ultra Magnus
had said, but a little surprised to see Optimus Prime acting fierce towards
another. He was normally so calm and composed, it was alien to see him like
that. Then again, he had caught him in odd moods before. The older Prime
sighed, his expression tired but with a hint of bitter anger. "I apologise
Drift, Ultra Magnus tends to act before thinking." He spat these words out, as
if they were poison he had been longing to purge from his oral cavity.
It was not the way Optimus spoke that surprised Drift, but rather the reaction
from Ultra Magnus after hearing what the older Prime had just said. These
words, for some unknown reason, made Ultra Magnus's strict expression crumble,
his optics widen and his proud composure breaking down into almost nothing. It
was as if he had been stabbed with a blade right through his spark. A mech, who
was normally so strict about his own stature, that it was shocking to see him
in such a state. In fact it was truly bizarre to see a mech like him fall
before a simple remark, even if it had come from the lips of a Prime. Drift
could feel a horrid sensation of guilt from the rude mech, bitter regret,
painful sadness and a terrible desire to repent. Optimus did not look at him,
but Drift could see the dark gaze deep in those azure optics, almost as if he
was holding back a terrible storm that could smother the world. Ultra Magnus
said nothing, but bit his lip so hard he drew blood. His fists then clenched
hard until they trembled, until he inhaled deeply, and his usual composure
returned.
"Forgive me Optimus Prime," he said in a proud yet quiet voice, "But you are
expected at the Autobot Knights Hall for the brief, and we cannot afford to
delay it."
Optimus said nothing nor moved from where he stood. The atmosphere was
incredibly tense and Drift found he was actually trembling. Rodimus even looked
on with concerned optics, looking back and forth between his brother and Ultra
Magnus. Thankfully Optimus finally shifted from his spot, releasing a rough
sigh before nodding. Without saying another word, he turned and left, Ultra
Magnus waiting a moment or so before following. The white mech watched, both
fascinated and confused as the older Prime and the rude mech left, without even
announcing their leave.
Once they were gone, Rodimus walked over, bearing a face of concern. "Those two
confuse me sometimes," he sighed, kicking a lonely pebble on the ground. "One
cycle they're acting like old war buddies, the next cycle Optimus is treating
him like slag and Ultra Magnus just takes it."
Drift didn't want to pry, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Is Optimus
Prime in another of those moods?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't upset the
younger Prime.
Rodimus shook his head, and sighed once more, folding his arms as he did. "I
don't know why but... I think Optimus hates Ultra Magnus... but likes him at
the same time." Drift blinked after hearing this. None of the words Rodimus
just uttered made any sense to the white mech, and he just stared at the young
Prime with a lost expression. Rodimus just stood there, looking a little
worried. "Ultra Magnus isn't that bad, once you've gotten used to him, and he's
apparently the best Vice Commander the Autobot Knights ever had. That and he is
a Magnus," he explained.
"A Magnus?" repeated Drift, not realising that the name must have meant
something in this land. He had just assumed that it was just a name.
Rodimus nodded and explained further. "The Magnus family has been serving the
Primes for eons. They fought wars for us, killed evil tyrants in the name of
justice, and they are in charge of the local law enforcement in every city
across Cybertronia. Tyrest Magnus is the current head of the family, and after
him it will be Ultra Magnus. The pair of them are super strict about law and
order, and it's a nightmare if you put them in the same room."
By the blade of Prima, there was two of them? Drift began to dread the idea of
meeting two Magnus' and quietly prayed that he would never get caught in a room
with the pair of them. If Ultra Magnus was rude and, in his own opinion, evil
then imagine what the head of his family must be like. Ten times worse? No,
more like a hundred times worse. It would be like two Ultra Magnus', only one
of them would be older and more horrid than the other one. Rodimus smirked a
little when he spotted Drift's fear, though he couldn't really blame him.
"Don't worry, Tyrest Magnus rarely visits the palace."
That made the white mech sigh with relief, though he was still wondering what
the deal was between Optimus and Ultra Magnus. "Do they fight sometimes? Your
brother and Ultra Magnus, I mean?"
Rodimus shrugged. "I honestly don't know anymore. They were best friends when
they were little, but now it's confusing."
"They've been friends for a long time?" queried Drift, a little curious about
their history.
The young Prime nodded. "Yes, when Optimus was about three vorns old, Ultra
Magnus was selected to be a companion for him. I think they were paired on
purpose though."
"What makes you say that?"
Before Rodimus answered, he looked around to make certain they were truly
alone. Once he checked the coast was clear, he stepped forward a little and
whispered, "I once overheard some servants talking, that Optimus was supposed
to bond with Ultra Magnus, but it never happened."
Drift's optics widened with shock. Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus? Bond? He
couldn't even picture it in his mind, for the idea of those two being Bonded
was crazy. His curiosity grew even further, and he asked in a low tone, "Why
didn't it happen?"
Rodimus shrugged again. "I'm not certain, but apparently my father and Tryrest
had arranged the whole thing long ago, but then my father changed his mind and
announced that Optimus would bond with..." Rodimus paused for a moment and
closed his optics. He looked like he was going to be sick as he uttered the
name, "Sir Zeta."
The white mech could not ignore that disgusted look on Rodimus' face. "Who is
Sir Zeta?"
The young Prime growled in disgust, and kicked another loose pebble, harder
than the last one. Drift actually had to shift back a little, out of fear that
Rodimus may hit him. The young Prime looked like he was foaming at the mouth as
he spat vile words about this Sir Zeta. "He's a vile, self proclaiming, nut
case, who thinks he's the greatest Lord in all the land. He may have won my
father's approval, but I can see him for what he truly is! A power mad sadist,
who deserves to die! Even Optimus hates him with a passion, and Ultra Magnus
thinks he should be locked away. He should be! He's disgusting and... and... I
hate him so much!" Rodimus was clearly angry and disgusted by this Sir Zeta,
whoever he was.
Though this was a revealing conversation about the Primes, Rodimus wasn't
revealing a whole lot unless prompted to do so. Why did he hate this Sir Zeta
so much? What did he do to earn so much hatred from the young Prime? Was he
bonded to Optimus Prime? Apparently they were supposed to be but it was never
mentioned before.
He hated to do so, though he secretly wanted to, he had to ask more questions
to get his answer. "So... he's bonded to Opt-..."
Before he could even finish that question, Rodimus spun round and stamped his
foot so hard on the ground, cracks suddenly formed. "NO! They are not bonded!
THEY'RE NOT!" he spat, his face turning red with rage. "Don't you ever say
anything like that again!" Drift winced, stepping back and bowing his head in
shame. He didn't mean to upset Rodimus, but his curiosity got the better of
him. Rodimus vented out his anger for a moment, before realising he had upset
his new friend. "I'm... I'm sorry," he gasped, trying to calm down. "It's just
that I really, really hate him."
Drift peered up and he could see that Rodimus was both ashamed and upset that
he had thrown such a tantrum before the white mech. He was trying to regain his
composure, desperately trying to hide the cracks he formed, but despite his
efforts he looked like he was about to burst into another fit. "I'm sorry," he
said again in a shaken tone, "Your teacher just left and... and... I'm sorry."
The white mech watched for a moment, as Rodimus tried to straighten himself
out, before smiling a little. Though he had only known him for a little while,
he knew that the young Prime was being sincere, and was truly sorry for
shouting at him in such a way. Though it was partly his fault, for constantly
asking all these questions about the life of the Primes, he didn't mean to
upset the young Prime. Though it was killing his curiosity, he would have to
hold back on these questions. It was not his place to ask about the personal
lives of the Primes.
Come to think of it, they were now both in pain. Drift had to watch his teacher
leave, and Rodimus had to speak of someone he hated, for reasons unknown. The
pair of them were now upset, and in pain. Neither had meant to cause the other
to feel this grief, and neither wanted the other to suffer. Though he had
decided to stay with Rodimus, Drift still felt the guilty need to return home.
However he made a promise to his sensei, and he would stay here until Rodimus
came into the age of maturity. The young Prime himself would have to eventually
leave these childish fits behind, though he could sense that he did not want
to. The white mech could not help but think that Rodimus did not wish for his
sixth vorn of life to pass, and that this Sir Zeta had something to do with it.
Deciding it would be best to change the subject, he stepped forward and placed
a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "You know, we haven't found that door yet," he
suggested with a grin, "The golden door with the red patterns and the silver
maiden? We still have a lot of places to look."
Rodimus stared at him for a moment and was, for once, speechless. It was
possible that he was not expecting this from Drift, and wasn't entirely certain
how to respond to him. He was even glancing from side to side, his lips opening
and shutting as he tried to form words, and his fingers tightening around his
golden cloak. Drift had to admit that the young Prime looked adorable when he
was tongue tied.
However the moment was quickly lost when Rodimus shook himself, and coughed in
embarrassment. "Of course we have to," he declared, standing up straight and
trying to take control, "I need you to help me find it, so I can discover what
lies behind it!"
Drift nodded with a smile, as Rodimus began walking onward. "Come on then! The
sooner we locate it the better!" he proclaimed with a proud voice.
The white mech said nothing, but smiled sweetly and followed the young Prime,
pausing for a moment to look back, and watch as the the ship carrying his
sensei home vanish beyond the horizon. There was no turning back now. For the
next two stellar cycles, this would be his home. Turning his back on the
distant horizon, he followed the young Prime back into the palace. There were
many questions he had, but for now he would ignore his thirst for knowledge,
and continue to act as Rodimus Prime's friend.
TBC
***** Chapter 4 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Four
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - very mild cursing and drinking
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
Carefully wading through a field of crystal tulips, Drift looked around with
caution, staying alert and listening for the slightest sound of danger. The
great sol was high in the sky, and he actually wished that he had forgotten to
polish his armour this morning. His bright armour was a dead giveaway within
the crimson that surrounded him, but if he sunk into the beautiful flora, he
would be safe. Each step landed without a sound, and he took extra care not to
rustle any of the floras around him. He would pause when he detected movement,
hoping that his still figure wouldn't attract any attention. He would hold his
breath when it got too quiet, praying no one could hear him. Though he had
managed to hide in fields of vivid green when he was younger so he could escape
from cleaning duties, he wasn't too certain how long he could hide from a young
Prime.
In the distance he could hear him cry out. "I'm going to find you Drift!" Drift
groaned as he tried to move faster, able to escape from the crimson flora and
flee the garden, running into another.
Ever since Rodimus forced him into a game of hide and seek, he had been running
from garden to garden, courtyard to courtyard, all to evade the young Prime. So
far he had managed to avoid getting caught, but Rodimus was getting closer and
closer. He had hidden behind bushes, crawled under benches, stood behind trees,
and even stuck close to shadows. Despite his skills, the young Prime still
managed to keep up with him. He was certain he would be able to lose him within
this enormous palace, but somehow Rodimus knew where he was going. All he could
do was to continue to evade him; otherwise he would get caught and would have
to carry out a dare for the young Prime.
That was how this whole thing started. Rodimus tried to get Drift to do
something he didn't want to do, so he challenged him to a game of hide and
seek. If he caught the white mech, then Drift would have to accept any dare
that he would give to him. At first Drift thought this would be easy, thinking
he could lose the young Prime within a matter of clicks. Yet somehow Rodimus
was able to keep up with him. All Drift could do was get as far away from the
young Prime as he could.
Running into another garden, he looked around until he spotted a gazebo covered
in emerald vines and flora, and decided that it would be the perfect place to
hide, for a little while. Sprinting across the garden, he ran into the gazebo
and hide behind one of the pillars. He peered out and was certain he saw a
flash of golden red in the previous garden. He couldn't detect anyone coming
from that garden, and was fairly certain that he had at long last lost Rodimus.
"Thank the blade," he sighed, resting his helm against the pillar.
"So Rodimus is hunting you down, eh?"
The sudden voice almost made Drift jump out of his armour, and he spun round to
find himself staring into a tired, old, yet dapper face. He almost cried out
and pressed up against the very pillar he used as a hiding place, though it
didn't help him now. How was it that he failed to sense that someone was
sitting in this very gazebo? This had never happened before! It must have been
because he was so focused on avoiding Rodimus that he failed to sense the life
force of others. Once he had calmed down, and was able to focus properly, he
tried to figure out on who he was looking at.
After a few clicks he finally recognised who it was that sat before him. It was
that healer, the head healer, Ratchet, sitting within the gazebo, with a few
data pads and a bottle of strong scented of energon wine. He was sitting in the
shade, his white and red armour blending into the surrounding, which would
explain why Drift never saw him to begin with. The healer merely looked at
Drift, neither amused nor annoyed. He just sipped some of the energon, and
sighed, crossing his legs as he nestled into a relaxed position. Drift could
only stare back at the healer, uncertain what to say, or even do. He remembered
what Prowl had told him about this Ratchet. He remembered when he saw him for
the first time; in a mood so foul that he doubted even Ultra Magnus would dare
face him. What should he do? Leave him? Stay? What?
The head healer took another sip of his energon, before saying something to the
white mech. "Give it a bit and he'll run off to the next courtyard," he said in
a relaxed tone, "Soon something will distract him, and he'll forget that he was
even looking for you."
Drift sighed in relief. The healer must be in a good mood or something. Or
maybe he was lulling him into a false sense of security before attacking him
with vulgar language. Whatever what was to come, the white mech thought it
would be best to leave him alone. He had seen him on a bad mood upon their
first meeting, and he never thought in his whole life he would meet someone who
managed to make Grand Master Dai Atlus look like a timid turbofox pup. This
Ratchet was giving off a complex aura, but Drift could see a bitter cold, yet
strong willed persona lurking within the old healer, and Drift could not help
but feel drawn to it.
The healer just stared at him, pulling his lips back into a frown. "I don't
bite kid, so either sit down and hide, or leave and get caught." It was like an
order, and Drift quickly sat down on a bench, sitting opposite of the healer.
He just stared at him, rolling his optics as he took another sip of his
energon. "Primus..." he muttered.
Well this was awkward. Terribly awkward. Drift was starting to think it would
be best if he just ran out, and allow Rodimus to catch him. Who knows, the
challenge the young Prime had in store for him would be ten times better than
sitting here with the gruff healer. He could not help but feel that he was in
constant danger around him. Should he start off a conversation? Maybe inquire
into what he was reading, or what brand of energon wine he was drinking? No,
these were silly and pitiful ways to break the ice, yet he had to say
something. The silence was started to kill him, and the heavy air between them
was overwhelming. The breeze offered some comfort, gently swaying some
decorative wind chimes. He could hear the distant chatter of servants and
knights, and even Rodimus' call was starting to become faint. The calming notes
the cyber-aves sung, and the calming atmosphere of the garden was enough to
keep him relaxed. Still the air within the gazebo was anything but relaxing.
Looking up at Ratchet, Drift parted his lips and was about to query about his
reading material, when the gruff healer looked up and beat him to the punch.
"So enjoying your stay? Rodimus isn't torturing you behind our backs, is he?"
Drift shook his head. "Oh no he isn't, I can assure you, though he's a
little... a little..." Drift desperately tried to find the right, and polite
word, he could use, but Ratchet finished it for him. "He's driving you up the
wall already?" The gruff healer laughed, as Drift's face flustered into an
embarrassing shade of pink, but he did nod.
"I am enjoying my time spent with him," explained the white mech, not wanting
to be pitied upon for the wrong reason, "But there are some sols when I wish he
would allow the both of us to relax." This was true in many ways. He did enjoy
some of the games and tasks Rodimus set out for them, but lately it was
starting to pile up, and Drift was getting exhausted before the games.
Ratchet smirked, before gulping back another mouthful of his energon. "Well
you're the first companion he ever had. That little punk has been dying to have
someone he could play with." The healer paused when he noticed the unpleased
expression Drift bore when he addressed Rodimus Prime as a 'punk', almost
forgetting that Drift still held respect for him and his heritage. "Relax kid,
it's not like I'm calling him the spawn of Unicron. I think someone called him
that once though." Ratchet laughed at his own humour, but Drift felt a little
uncomfortable. This healer had a very bizarre way of talking, and he didn't
seem to hold a lot of respect for the Primes.
"Well... he may be over active, but he has taught me a lot about you land,"
explained Drift, shifting a little closer than he would have dared. "He's quite
interesting, once you've gotten used to him, and he is actually helping me
understand your written words."
The healer looked back at unimpressed. "At least he isn't moping around
anymore," he wearied, taking another swig of his energon. "Getting stuck with
him in one of his bad moods was a nightmare in itself. I almost felt sorry for
you when I heard they were bringing someone in to be his new playmate." He
laughed when Drift glared at him, the white mech not realising he was doing so.
Wanting to change the subject, to one that would end quickly so he could leave,
Drift shifted a little closer and asked, "How long have you worked here?" He
hoped it would be a short answer, for whenever he asked something like that
back home; the conversation was over within a matter of nano-clicks.
The healer pondered on this, seemly trying to remember when he started his
career as the head healer of the Primes. "It was back during the Kanolite
rebellions... I think. I was just a trainee at the time, but my talent caught
the attention of Tyrest Magnus, and he brought me to the palace of the Primes
to become an assistant to the current head healer. Nothing fancy kid, I was
just at the wrong place at the wrong time."
That last sentence confused Drift. "You mean... you don't like working here?"
Ratchet groaned, as if he had revealed something he didn't want anyone to know.
He just shrugged and took another long drink. "A little of yes, and a little of
no. Mostly no."
The healer puffed out a heavy energon scented sigh. "I can leave if I want to,
but I can't."
The healer chuckled in a sad way, and Drift could even sense that the gruff
healer was sad about something. Did he truly not like working here? Why? To
work in the palace of the Primes must have been a dream job for many, but he
guessed that this was a job that the healer did not want. Maybe someone here
was giving him a hard time or something, or maybe there was somewhere else he'd
rather be. Still if he could leave whenever he wanted, what was keeping him
from going? Drift could only assume that it had something to do with the duty
of a healer, or something. He didn't wish to pry any further, and tried to
think of a way to get away without making a big deal out of this.
Standing up, he cleared his throat and bowed. "I thank you for your company
healer Ratchet, but I have to-"
Before he could even finish, he quickly noticed that Ratchet was ignoring him
and looking over his shoulder, a serious and concerned expression upon his
face. Out of curiosity, Drift looked over his own shoulder, and out of the
corner of his optics, he spotted a flash of dark blue disappear into an archway
that lead to the next garden. He didn't see who it was, but Ratchet must have
recognised whoever it was, because the next thing Drift knew the healer was
standing up, and gently but quickly pushing him aside.
"Stay here," he ordered, striding towards the archway where the flash
disappeared into.
Drift watched as the healer quickly walked off and disappeared into the next
garden, without saying another word. The white mech could sense he was
concerned about something, and angry at the same time, so it would be best not
to do or say anything. Did he spot someone he knew? Maybe it was someone who
trashed his healing chambers and he wanted to get his revenge. His fists were
clenched, and his stride was wide and fast. Where ever he was going, he wanted
to get there fast and he was angry about it. It would be best if he waited, and
now that he had the gazebo all to himself, he could easily hide within it,
without a gruff healer to share it with. He relaxed into the seat, but not
before looking around to make certain Rodimus wasn't about to sneak up on him.
Once he was completely certain he was alone, he sat down and relaxed, kicking
his legs in the air.
As time passed he peered at Ratchet's reading material. It was nothing
interesting, just a few volumes about the healing arts, and the science of
medical research. He peeped inside them, but he couldn't understand the
writing. He took a sniff of the energon wine, and almost dropped the bottle for
the strength of the smell was overwhelming. He decided to leave the healer's
stuff alone, just in case he would suffer under his wrath, just for looking at
them. Time continued to pass, and Drift began to wonder if Rodimus had wandered
into another part of the palace looking for him. He also wondered what was
keeping Ratchet. He wanted to leave now, but he was afraid that the healer
would get mad at him for leaving his stuff unintended. He wasn't sure how much
time had passed, but Drift was getting bored.
Standing up he looked around, and decided that he would venture into the
previous garden, and hopefully he would bump into Rodimus. Walking towards the
archway that would lead him back to the previous garden, he suddenly jumped
back when Rodimus Prime suddenly rushed through. The young Prime didn't see him
as he crashed against a wall, leaned on it for support, and began to heave
heavily. It all happened so fast that Drift barely had any time to react. He
wasn't sure what to question first. Why was Rodimus running, or what was wrong
with him? Did he bump into Ratchet? Maybe that was it, he bumped into Ratchet,
Ratchet was in a bad mood, and tried to take it out on him, forcing the young
Prime to flee. Yes, that must be what had happened.
He stepped forward, reaching out to place a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "I guess
you were too fast for the head healer, huh?" said the white mech with a laugh,
imagining the young Prime trying to avoid an angry healer.
The moment his hand came into contact with the young Prime's shoulder, Rodimus
suddenly spun round and slapped his hand away, followed by a small squeak of
surprise. Drift winced, and stepped back, massaging his tingling hand. He
looked back at Rodimus to see that he was... scared. Drift had to blink twice
to make certain he was correct, and to his shock he was. There was no other way
to describe it, Rodimus Prime stood there with swollen optics, his frame
trembling, and it looked like he was trying to hold back a sob. He was scared,
terrified even. It was as if someone had shaken him up, and not in a way he was
used to. Rodimus had been told off before, in ways that almost scared the white
mech, but Rodimus would simply bounce back with a grin and laugh it off, but
now... now he looked like he just got the telling off of a lifetime, and he
couldn't handle it. Drift could feel the fear wafting off him, but he also felt
sadness and shame. In fact that was the white mech could sense the most; a
whole lot of shame and humiliation. There was also an odd smell, but it was
foreign to him.
Before he could even ask what was wrong, Rodimus stood up and straightened
himself out, wiping his optics, as if to make certain there were no lose tears.
Drift said nothing as the young Prime looked at him, using a face that masked
his emotions in an obvious way. "So I finally found you," he declared, but not
in a joyous way. His tone sounded strong but it crumbled with every word. "Well
now that I have located you, let's go get a drink. I'm thirsty," ordered the
young Prime. He then started walking, but not before wobbling a bit, towards
the palace's main body.
Drift watched him as he walked, confused and a little upset. What was wrong? He
had never seen Rodimus like this before, and it would be a lie to say he wasn't
the least bit concerned. Something had happened that caused him to become
upset, and he was clearly trying to hide it from him. Should he ask? Or would
it best to leave it alone? Rodimus usually told him what upset him, but it was
clear that he didn't want to discuss it. It was possible he got told off by
someone, and that the subject was rather sensitive. So for now, for the young
Prime's sake, he would ignore it and act like nothing happened.
Jogging over to the young Prime, he began to walk beside him, and tried his
best to smile a little. "Do you think we can have some of that rust berry
energon?" he asked, hoping that Rodimus would at least talk to him. "I really
liked it, and it tastes great with those oil pastries." The young Prime stopped
walking and looked at him, his face blank and unreadable.
The white mech could do nothing but stare back, smiling in a clumsy way and
trying to look optimistic. He was hoping Rodimus would smile back, but so far
he was getting nothing, not even a blink. It was just as awkward when he sat
with Ratchet, only now he truly did not know what to do. He couldn't run away
from him, not right now. The young Prime may not admit it, but he needed
someone to stand by him right now and Drift wasn't going to leave him. Should
he at least say something about what happened? No, he couldn't, for he was
certain that the young Prime wasn't in a talking mood.
However, thank the blade of Prima, Rodimus finally spoke. "I suppose I can
convince the servants to fetch us some," he sighed.
Drift had to keep it going, anything to reignite the young Prime's enthusiasm.
"And if you want, I can sneak into the kitchens and liberate some cookies?" he
suggested, something he normally wouldn't suggest.
That actually made Rodimus step back with surprise. "You mean the ones they
baked this morning? The ones made for that meeting for the Temple of Primus'
priests and the high priest?" Drift swallowed hard as he nodded, and mentally
noted that he would give five extra prayers to Primus this evening.
Thankfully this simple suggestion actually made Rodimius grin, and he tugged
upon the white mech's arm. "Come on then! We can replace their cookies with
mulch pies!"
Drift groaned as Rodimus pulled him along, now realising that he would have to
pray twenty times to Primus and beg for his forgiveness. Still he was able to
make the young Prime smile again, and forget whatever upset him. He wanted to
ask, hoping there was something he could do, but decided that it was something
he should not get involved in. Besides it must have been a simple telling off
and Rodimus wasn't in good mood to receive it. He would eventually see him like
this again, and he would simply help him get back to normal. Simple really.
As the two young mechs ran off to sneak into the kitchens, Ratchet returned
from the previous garden, grumbling as he sat back down into the gazebo. The
gruff healer sighed angrily as he took a long swig of his energon wine,
slamming the bottle down hard on the bench. He cursed a few foul words under
his breath and once more, downed the bottle of energon wine.
His mood swing was interrupted when a tall shadow was cast over him. Glancing
up, he sneered, and proceeded to ignore the one who stood behind him. "Frag off
Ultra Magnus, though it doesn't surprise me you were around," he snarled
viciously, waving an arm as if to shoo him away.
Ultra Magnus frowned, glaring at the bottle of energon wine rather than the
healer. "I thought I told you that drinking at this cycle and in a public
garden was forbidden!"
Ratchet snorted with a sarcastic grin. "Pah, don't try and change the subject,"
he spat, taking another and final swig of the bottle's remaining contents. "You
knew what was going to happen, and you couldn't resist looking." The healer
looked up and was almost pleased that he managed to make the Magnus look a
little uncomfortable. "One Prime wasn't enough, eh?" he sneered.
That actually made Ultra Magnus snarled, and he resisted raising his fist.
Instead he exhaled heavily, and continued to glare down at the gruff healer.
"What about you? Going around getting drunk when you're too damn scared to even
act on your own impulses?" he snapped, folding his arms as he stared down at
Ratchet. "You don't even like him, but you stay anyway because of-"
He was cut off when Ratchet stood up and snarled at him. "At least I don't go
and solve the problem in a berth!"
The two mechs glared viciously at each other, the tension between them growing
by the nano-click, and murder was sighted within their optics. Their bitterness
towards each other was as strong as any liquor brewed, and their rage fuelled
by their constant hateful bickering. Whatever transpired between them was
feeding the hidden rage, burning deep within their sparks. They hated each
other, blamed each other, but also blamed themselves, and in a strange twist of
irony, used their guilt to fuel the rage they had for the other. There was no
room for forgiveness, for their dark anger shrouded any hope of admitting their
shame. There was only hatred, anger and guilt.
They would have launched at each other if not for a timely interruption by the
captain of the Autobot Knights, Sir Prowl. The captain thankfully had not
noticed the vile tension between the two mechs, as he was completely focused on
his job. "Ultra Magnus sir, there has been an incident in the northern most
district of the city, and your presence is required at once."
It was unclear if Prowl was aware of the growing tension, or if he was just
ignoring it, but thankfully his presence was able to make the two angry mechs
calm down. Ultra Magnus sighed angrily but stepped back, not wanting the
captain to see him go into a pointless fit of rage.
Instead he turned to leave with Prowl, but not before giving the Captain a
command, out loud. "Prowl, give Ratchet here a fine for drinking in a public
garden. If he's caught again, he'll spend a sol in irons." Prowl nodded
obediently, and quickly took a note, ignoring the healer's cold glare.
The two walked off, leaving Ratchet all alone in the garden. The healer quietly
sighed in annoyance and looked up towards the heavens. The golden rose coloured
sky did little to improve his mood. He looked down at his empty bottle, annoyed
that he finished it too quickly. Sighing he leaned back and just stared up as
high as he could, beyond the sky, beyond the stars, and the violet darkness
between them. How he wished he could fade into that darkness and live besides
those stars illuminating the heavens. Anything was better than staying here. He
wanted to leave more than anything... but his spark told him otherwise.
TBC
***** Chapter 5 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Five
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - sharp objects
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
Rodimus was bouncing upon the tips of his pedes as Sir Kup began to pry open a
large box, that sat innocently upon a bench. He kept running from one end to
the other, releasing small whines of need, and tiny whimpers of want. Despite
his eagerness and impatience, he was doing very well not to demand the leader
of the Wrecker Knights to hurry up. Sir Kup chewed on his cygar, seemly opening
the large box in a slow manner on purpose. Drift stood nearby, wondering how
Rodimus would react when he would see what weapon he and Master Axe had agreed
upon. He hoped he would like it, and he was certain that the young Prime would
master it within a matter of orbital cycles.
The box containing the weapon for Rodimus had arrived early this morning.
Rodimus somehow knew and dragged Drift out of his berth, so he could be there
once it was open. Sir Kup had awoken early too, knowing he wouldn't hear the
end of it if he woke up late, like he normally did. Drift hoped, nay, knew that
the young Prime would be able to handle the surprise weapon with ease. He had
the power in his arms to do so, so there was no real concern. Plus the
blacksmith was on standby, ready to adjust the said weapon, just in case it was
too big or too small.
Once the final latch was released, Rodimus released another impatient whine,
only louder than before. "Come on Kup, I wanna see it already!" he groaned,
trying to stop himself from jumping onto elder knight's back.
Kup snorted at him, chewing on his cygar and shifting it to the other side of
his mouth. "Have some darn patience, lad," he barked, pausing on purpose. "Who
knows what is in this box, and since it's from Crystal City, it could have one
of their crazy gizmos in there!"
That didn't seem to work on the young Prime, and he pouted at the elder knight.
"Don't pretend you don't know what’s in there Kup, I already know that Master
Axe told you!"
Drift could not help but laugh as Sir Kup began to curse out loud and gently
pushed the young Prime out of the way. At long last, the elder knight opened
the box and peered in to inspect the contents. Rodimus desperately tried to
peer in, but Sir Kup blocked his view, growling at him as he did so. The white
mech smiled as he walked over, just as the elder knight pulled out the weapon
within. The impatient Prime tried to get a better look, but Sir Kup made
certain that he couldn't see it just yet.
"Jus' a sec lad, I just' have to check it over. So wait a couple more clicks,"
growled the elder knight, examining what he held in his arms.
Rodimus release a loud impatient groan. "Oh come on already, you old bucket of
scrap! Let me see already!"
Kup growled at the young Prime, and for a moment the young mechs assumed he
wasn't going to reveal the weapon and put it away for another sol. thankfully
the elder knight seemed to be in a good mood, and must have decided to let that
little name calling slide, for now. He turned to face the young mechs, keeping
the weapon hidden by shifting behind his back. Rodimus whined loudly and pulled
his lips back into a pitiful snarl, he was just about ready to burst what with
all the waiting. In truth it wasn't that long, but Drift had come to learn that
even two clicks were too long for Rodimus Prime.
The elder knight grinned in a cunning way, leaning down until he was about
optic level with the young Prime. "OK lad, you can have your new doo hicky, if
ya say, please!"
Rodimus looked like he was about to blow a fuse upon hearing such a request.
"Y-you... you dare demand me, a Prime, to beg for what is rightfully mine?" he
snapped, stamping his foot on the ground hard. "Stop playing around, and show
me!"
His loud and almost convincing argument was answered with a small smack on his
helm, followed by a small 'ow' from Rodimus. Even Drift could not help but
laugh as Sir Kup scolded the angry young Prime, whilst he in return continued
to demand and order him about. It seemed that the elder knight was not going to
hand it over until Rodimus showed him at least some respect. Sadly even
something like that seemed impossible, knowing Rodimus, and if he wanted to
receive his new weapon so badly, then he was going to have to, for once, show
some reverence for his mentor.
Drift knew he was going to have to intervene, and he caught Rodimus' attention
by pulling on his shoulder. The young Prime looked to him, but still bore an
expression of annoyance. "Rodimus, in my land even we show respect to our
sensei's and mentors, and receiving a weapon from one is a great honour,"
explained Drift, hoping what he would say would get the young Prime to comply.
"Sir Kup here has dedicated his life to helping you achieve perfection,
sacrificing his very time to help you in your endeavours, and just as I have
respected and loved my sensei, I wish for you to do the same to yours." He
hoped these words would have some effect, though he wasn't actually expecting
much.
The young Prime however did change his expression to one of sympathy.
Unbeknownst to Drift, young Rodimus recalled when the white mech's sensei left
him, almost an orbital cycle ago. He knew that Drift was still upset about the
whole thing, and though Rodimus would never admit it, he envied the
relationship between Drift and Master Axe. Sir Kup was indeed a great mentor,
teaching him many techniques and training him to become even better than his
brothers. Despite his gruff attitude, he was a dedicated teacher and Rodimus
was lucky to have him. Sadly his stubbornness and pride prevented him from
forming any special relationship with Sir Kup, though in some sense they did
have a special if not weird relationship. He didn't want to but he guess that
for once, he would show him some form of respect.
Sighing, Rodimus looked up at Sir Kup and spoke through his teeth, "Please Sir
Kup, may I have the weapon that was intended for me?" The young Prime seemed to
be trembling, but Drift could only guess that Rodimus was doing his best to
force it all out.
Sir Kup looked like he was about to laugh, but he instead coughed and once
again shifted the cygar in his mouth. He then stood up straight, and began to
talk as if he was presenting an award. "Very well then, Rodimus Prime," he
declared, "Thanks to the Circle of Crystal City, I now bestow upon you a weapon
that they have deemed fit for you to wield. Accept it with pride and honour."
Then at last, he brought his arms around from behind his back and presented
Rodimus with the very weapon he had been waiting for. Rodimus looked at Kup's
arms with wide optics, and for a moment he did nothing but stare. Drift's spark
began to pulse fast out of anticipation, hoping that the young Prime would
react in a way that was rewarding for the both of them. However Rodimus
continued to stare, not uttering a single word. Drift was starting to worry
that the young Prime didn't like what he was looking at, and even Sir Kup
seemed bewildered.
Rodimus then looked up at Kup, and then at Drift, and the back at the weapon.
"What... is it?" he asked.
Sir Kup chuckled as he held the weapons up for a better look. In his hands was
a pair of strange looking devices, with straps, thin strong wires, and with
three sharp blades attached to each of them. There was no handle to hold them;
in fact the young Prime wasn't even sure how to hold them. The wires seemed odd
and out of place, and he wasn't even sure what to make of the straps. He also
didn't seem too impressed that, despite there being three blades on each pair,
they were rather short. The design of this strange weapon was throwing Rodimus
off, for they confused him rather than excite him. Drift knew it was time to
step in and explain; hoping his explanation and demonstration of the weapon
would help ease Rodimus' concern.
"These are what we call, anstatsu blades, or assassin blades Rodimus,"
explained Drift, taking one of the devices from Sir Kup and proceeded to
demonstrate. "You see, this is grafted onto your forearm armour, and when you
activate this part with one of your nerve wiring..." as Drift spoke, he tugged
on one of the wires, and Rodimus almost jumped back when the three blades
extended suddenly, humming in an azure light, displaying their power and their
beauty. Drift waved it around a little, the blades hummed louder with each
movement. "They rely on the strength of your arms to damage your foes, and
despite their name they are actually very decent and commendable weapons. We
even have a whole section of the Circle dedicated to mastering these blades,
and several arts based on them." He pulled the wire again, causing the blades
to shrink back into the device that held them.
Rodimus had watched and listened, his optics now focused on the weapons in
Drift's hands. Both Drift and Sir Kup waited, hoping that Rodimus would accept
them, but his prolonged silence was started to worry them.
"Don't you like them, Rodimus?" asked Drift, concerned that the young Prime
wasn't saying anything. Didn't he like them? Wasn't he impressed? He thought he
would be, but his silence was starting to worry him.
The young Prime finally reacted, looking up at Drift. "Like them?" he repeated.
There another period of silence, and once more the white mech assumed that
Rodimus was displeased with the choice of weapon. However Rodimus suddenly
grinned rushed forward and took hold of the weapon in Drift's hand. "I love
it!" he exclaimed, pulling the wire and watching in awe as the blades extended
once more.
Drift sighed in relief, and Sir Kup laughed, smacking the white mech on the
back. As the elder knight stepped forward to take the weapon off of Rodimus,
Drift felt pleased with himself, and his pride began to swell up until it was
about ready to burst. He was overjoyed that the young Prime was delighted with
the weapon he had come up with for him, and he could see it in Rodimus' optics
that he was deeply intrigued by the blades. He honestly did not know how he
would react to such a weapon, but the result was worth it. Of course this was
just the first part, the next part was to see it Rodimus could actually wield
them.
Rodimus growled angrily as Sir Kup took the weapon from him. "Now, now lad," he
shouted, keeping the young Prime from grabbing them out of his hands. "We have
to remove your forearm armour, graft these in, and take them for a test!"
The young Prime moaned in annoyance, but complied with the order. Without
another word he hopped on the bench, and raised his arms obediently. Kup placed
the weapons down, and stood before Rodimus, reaching for the armour protecting
his arms. Drift walked over and watched, curious if Iaconians were different
compared to the citizens of Crystal City. Sir Kup carefully removed the armour,
the young Prime hissing a little as his nerve wiring detached them from the
crimson armour. As the armour was pulled away, Rodimus' bare protoform limbs
were laid bare, the nerve wiring seeping back within the seams of his body.
Drift wasn't at all surprised to see that Iaconians were the same as those of
Crystal City, though he was expecting it to be a little different. The way
their armour worked of course. In truth all of the mechs of Cybertronia were
born with no armour, and no mesh clothing adorning their bodies. They were born
with protoform bodies, made of metal flesh and hydraulic muscles, protecting
their spark chamber. Over time, and when they were old enough, energon would be
drained from within their spark chamber, otherwise known as innermost energon.
This precious fluid would be fused into the metal that would serve as their
armour that would mould itself to shape the body it fused with. In some sense,
armour was like a second skin to their kind. One can sense if someone touches
them, as if they were touching the skin of their protoform, and vice versa with
pain. It can be removed, and even replaced, as long as the nerve wiring from
the main body detaches safely.
It could even be removed to have attachments added, such as the anstatsu
blades. These attachments could be activated without physical touch, just by
using the nerve wiring that would link itself up with them. Rodimus could
easily wield them, and activate them within a nano-click, just by thinking
about it. The young Prime was a quick thinker, one of the many reasons why
Drift thought these weapons would suit him. Already the blacksmith was working
on grafting the blades onto Rodimus' armour, something that could take a while,
but the young Prime didn't seem bothered. He just kicked his legs in the air as
the smith and Sir Kup worked on grafted the blades onto his armour.
The young Prime looked towards Drift, and smiled. "I can't wait to try them
out!" he stated in an excited way. "I bet I'll even be able to enter a
tournament against Sentinel! What do you think Drift?"
The white mech looked at him confused. "A tournament?" he asked, confused by
the term and that it had something to do with his new blades. He remembered
hearing such a word in his youth, but until now he had never understood it.
Rodimus nodded and explained. "There are regular tournaments held by the common
folk, and some held by the knights, but the one I'm talking about is the only
one that I and my brothers can enter, the one held here right in the palace."
The young Prime seemed excited as he spoke of it, and Drift grew more curious.
"It's just for fun, but if you do really well in them, you can stand before the
ruling Prime and have anything you wish granted! I haven't been able to enter,
because of you-know-what, but if I train really hard, I can enter the upcoming
one!"
"So... it's like a sparring contest? You spar against each other?" queried
Drift, wanting to be certain he understood.
"Yes, only high ranked knights can enter, unless you've hand selected by either
the knight commanders, or by one of the Primes," continued Rodimus, allowing
Drift to sit next to him. "I'm not allowed to select anyone until I'm old
enough, but I can enter as long as Kup over there says I'm OK to do so."
Rodimus grinned with glee, as he thought about the tournament. "If I win, I
have a special wish I want granted!"
"I seriously doubt that, little brother!"
The two young mechs jumped when a loud and defiant voice suddenly rang through
the air. They looked up, and both were shocked to see none other than Sentinel
Prime standing before them. Rodimus bit his lip in anger, whilst Drift looked
up at him and marvelled at his proud aura. Sentinel Prime was pure perfection
in the white mech's optics, living proof of what a Prime should be like. His
beautiful colours, his gorgeous armour, and that god like aura. He was the
pinnacle of perfection in the standards of Prime, no offence to Rodimus and
Optimus, and Drift could only hope to see more of him, and hopefully even speak
with him. Sadly, their past encounters made the white mech look like a pitiful
infant in his optics. He could only hope that in the future, Sentinel Prime
would regard him as a mature member of the circle.
Sentinel smirked as he looked down at the young mechs. "Rodimus, my dear little
brother, you should know that you are not fit enough to enter the palace
tournament," he teased, patting Rodimus' helm in a mock display of affection.
"Our dear father wouldn't want to see you all cut up, now would he?"
Rodimus growled, pushing his brother's hand away. "It isn't for another four
orbital cycles!" he snapped, "I have plenty of time to train and get father's
approval!"
That earned him nothing but a snort of laughter from the elder Prime. "Even if
you were to get ready in that amount of time, I still doubt you will get
approval. After all, you contributed nothing to the trophy room."
Hearing that remark, followed by a smirk, Rodimus suddenly roared with anger
and pushed his elder brother back. "Shut up and leave me alone! I will enter
that tournament and beat you and everyone in it!"
"With those pitiful things?" sneered Sentinel, noticing Rodimus' new blades,
currently being grafted onto his forearm armour. "You couldn't even slice the
throat of a turborat with those things."
"Those are my new blades Drift picked for me," retorted Rodimus, patting Drift
on the back as he spoke, "And he says they're perfect for me, right Drift?"
Drift flinched when he realised he had been dragged into the brothers quarrel,
and it was something he did not want to be part of. The last thing he wanted
was to fuel the need for two Primes to argue with each other. He had hoped they
would have ignored him, but the young Prime dragged him into it regardless. He
cautiously peered up at Sentinel Prime who glared down at him.
"Is that so?" he sighed, making the white mech feel uncomfortable. "I suppose
you would want to enter the tournament as his second then?"
Second? What does that mean? Was it a tournament term? Did it mean that he
would sit on the sideline and watch Rodimus fight? Drift wanted to ask, but he
couldn't find the courage to ask such a question. The way Sentinel Prime glared
at him made him feel insecure, as if anything he said sounded like nonsense to
him. He had already offended this Prime so many times, that he didn't wish to
offend him any further. He so wanted him to at least look at him with respect,
but so far it was nothing but glares. Drift looked to Rodimus, desperate for an
answer.
The young Prime saw his plea, and answered for him. "Of course he is. He's the
best swordsmech I've ever seen. He's even better that you!"
Drift gasped upon hearing this, and was speechless. He looked back and forth
between Rodimus and Sentinel, fearing what was to come. No, he wasn't, there
was no way he was better than Sentinel Prime. He hadn't even seen him in
combat, but he knew for certain that not even he could be better than him. He
was so mighty and strong, and that was just from looking at him. Drift had
already learned of his accomplishments, and they were indeed grand
accomplishments. He wanted to say something, to say that Rodimus was just
spouting nonsense, but already Sentinel Prime was giving him his signature
glare.
"Is that so," he hissed, releasing an aura of rage and spite. "Very well then
Rodimus, if you are indeed ready for the next tournament, and as long as Sir
Kup and father agree, then your little friend here can be your second."
Rodimus gave his brother a defiant grin, and before Drift could even say
anything, the young Prime declared, "Oh we'll beat you, and you'll be begging
for mercy once we're done with you!"
Drift's head was spinning, as the Prime's continued to argue with each other.
What was going on? What was Rodimus dragging him into? What exactly does one do
in this tournament? What was this about begging for mercy? What in the name of
the blade was a second? Who were they beating? What the frag was going on? Lost
in his thoughts, Sentinel Prime took his leave, whilst Rodimus gave the
bewildered Drift a confident nudge, declaring how they would both beat his
horrible big brother.
Sir Kup looked on, and sighed. "If those two do end up competing, I'm gonna
fragging regret it."
***** Chapter 6 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
 Chapter Six
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - A little body contact, and curious thoughts
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
Chilled energon with spices mixed in had never tasted so sweet, as Drift gulped
down the contents of his glass, his tanks desperate for fuel, and the cool
sensation of the liquid running down his throat was blessing. On a warm sol
like this, Drift was thankful that a servant was on standby with a large beaker
of the sweet nectar for him to consume in case he over heated. Of course it
wasn't there for him; it was there for Rodimus, who was continuing his training
with the anstatsu blades, despite the overpowering heat. The white mech was
indeed impressed with Rodimus' commitment to perfect his skill under this heat.
Back in Crystal City it rarely got this hot, and when it did they would retreat
indoors, where it was cooler. Here in Iaconia, the only place they could train
was outside in the heat, with the blazing sol burning the very air around them.
Drift gasped for air as he finally finished his drink, and looked over at
Rodimus, who was currently attacking a target dummy. One orbital cycle hadn't
even passed, and the young Prime had almost mastered the use of the anstatsu
blades. Thankfully Sir Kup had some experience with the weapon, and had taught
the young Prime the basics, including blocking, striking and even sneak
attacks. There were sols when he was doing well and sols when he was bad. Other
sols, he would continue to train with the arcane bow, as well as conducting
wrist exercises to strengthen them. That was the young Prime's current
weakness, and possibly the reason he wasn't too good with handheld weapons. His
forearms however were very strong, and perfect for the blades he now possessed.
He could not help but admire how well the anstatsu blades had been grafted onto
his forearm armour. They looked so natural upon his frame, and made him even
look more stunning and gave one the impression that he was skilled fighter.
When he first put them on, he had trouble activating them at first since he
wasn't used to activating his new nerve line. When he finally got the hang of
it, he wouldn't stop extending them over and over. He then ran around and
started showing them off to whoever he could find, even Ultra Magnus and the
gruff healer Ratchet. Drift chased after him, worried he would hurt himself out
of the excitement. Thankfully Sir Kup had decided to place a safety switch on
them, one that Rodimus could not activate himself, therefore preventing him
from using them no matter how hard he tried. All it took was for Ratchet to
install a safety switch upon them, and designed it in a way that only Sir Kup
and he could activate. This was the one thing that angered Rodimus, but he
complied with it rather easily. Too easily in fact.
At least he looked happy now, and he was determined on mastering his new
blades. At long last he found something he could wield with ease. Even Optimus
had come by to watch him train, and promised him if he did well, he would
actually spar with him. Rodimus was overjoyed to hear this, for he was never
allowed to spar with anyone, let alone his own brothers. Optimus Prime did
voice his concern about his little brothers plan to enter the palace tournament
though, but Sir Kup assured him that he was getting better with each passing
sol. If he did wind up being able to join in, then Optimus wouldn't have to
worry about anything.
Speaking of the tournament, Drift himself was having concerns, after Rodimus
explained the whole thing to him bit by bit. It all sounded like his spars and
duals back home, only on a grander scale, and it was starting to get the white
mech nervous. Not about the fighting itself, but the fighting against a Prime
was what had him concerned. Since Drift was in the middle of training to become
a full fledge member of the Circle, he wasn't certain if he was actually
allowed to dual a Prime. Grand Master Dai Atlas explained that only fully
fledged members of the circle could spar against a Prime. Drift began to panic
because he wasn't a proper member of the Circle, and he could get into trouble
for to duel with a Prime. To be certain, he sent a data slug back home,
explaining what was happening and if he was allowed to dual against a Prime,
should he face one.
Rodimus had teased him about it, saying he shouldn't worry if he were to end up
fighting either Optimus or Sentinel. Optimus was decent fighter, and a fair
one. It was Sentinel they had to watch out for, since he had a nasty reputation
for injuring his duelling partners in horrific ways. Drift refused to believe
that Sentinel Prime would do the same to Rodimus, but the young Prime told him
of the time when Sentinel duelled Optimus, and apparently their duel got quite
nasty. It lasted four three sols straight, neither Prime letting up, until
their father stepped in and announced it was a tie. Drift was shocked but
awestruck after leaning this. A battle that lasted for three sols straight must
have been... well, as Rodimus would say, awesome! Especially since it was
against two Primes.
At least it wasn't a fight to the death, for the one rule in the tournament was
simple; you have to knock your opponent’s weapon out of his hand. The moment
your weapon left your hand and hit the floor, you lost. Seemed safe, though
Drift pointed out that the young Prime's new blades were attached to him, so
that didn't really seem fair. His mech blood ran cold however, after Rodimus
told him about the time a knight who fought with his fists entered the
tournament, but lost after three rounds when he got them sliced off. If that
was right, then if Rodimus did enter, then he was at risk of having his arms
chopped off. The young Prime was aware of this, but he declared that as long as
he kept up with his training, there was no way he was losing his arms.
Drift smiled as he watched Rodimus train, grabbing two glasses of the cool
energon before walking over to see him. The young Prime was so full of
confidence and so committed to his training, that the white mech felt a strange
sense of pride as he looked at him. He couldn't believe that Rodimus expressed
no fear when he spoke of the tournament. He was aware he could lose both his
limbs, but still didn't hint any kind of fear. Sure, you can get your arms
reattached, but losing a limb was still as painful as getting stabbed through
the spark. Still, he was confident he could win, certain he could win, and even
if he did get a get cuts and slashes here and there, he didn't care. Drift
could only hope he would have that kind of confidence one sol.
Rodimus paused in his work out, to look at Drift. "What are staring at me like
that for?" he asked,
Drift jumped when he realised he had been staring at Rodimus for a little too
long. He quickly offered him a glass of cool energon. "S-sorry Rodimus," he
stammered, "I thought you may want a drink?"
The young Prime stared at him, and then grinned in a sly way. He started
walking towards Drift, until he was leaning right into his face. The white mech
flinched, and found he couldn't move. What was this? Why was Rodimus leaning
into him like this?
Rodimus said nothing, but giggled again. "You know Drift, but every time you
stare at me, I can't help but think, you're thinking naughty thoughts."
Drift went red in the face, and shook violently. He tried stepping back, but
Rodimus stalked him, refusing to let him get away. "N-no Rodimus, I would
never... ever think of you like that," he cried, trying to keep certain
thoughts from forming in his mind.
"Like what?" asked Rodimus, in a teasing way.
"L-like a pervert would," explained Drift, now trying to walk back faster.
Rodimus however kept up with him, still grinning in a mocking way. "How would
you know how a pervert thinks?" he asked.
Drift shook his head even more. His face had now completely turned red, and he
was unaware what was behind him as he continued to walk backwards, away from
Rodimus. "N-n-no... I-I... I'm n-n-not a... I...w-wait... this i-isn't fair-...
AH!"
The white mech had walked back a fair distance backwards, miraculously not
walking into anything, but he failed to detect a loose rock that was in his
path. His heel collided with it, and he feel backwards. Out of instinct, he
dropped the chilled energon, and grabbed Rodimus in the hopes he would hold him
up. However Rodimus was caught off guard as well and he yelped as Drift dragged
him down. The two young mechs fell to the floor in a heap, the pair of them
crying out as they fell. Thankfully no one was around to see that.
Drift groaned in annoyance. He wasn't in pain, but by the Blade that was
embarrassing. Why did Rodimus like playing these games on him? Did he enjoy it
or something, because he certainly didn't enjoy them. They made him feel weird
and... Strange.
It was then that Drift realised that Rodimus was now lying on top of him, his
body on top of his own. The white mech gasped, his optics widening, and his
mouth opening halfway, unsure of what to do. He wanted to push him off, but he
couldn't. He wanted to say "get off," but he couldn't. He could feel Rodimus'
heaving chassis upon his own. He could feel his pulsing spark from underneath
his chassis armour. Now that he could concentrate, he could sense every part of
his body where Rodimus' own body was touching his... and it was making him feel
strange.
Before he could even say anything, Rodimus groaned and pushed himself up, his
hands either side of Drift's helm. "Drift you goof, what's wrong with you?" he
moaned, positioning himself so he was looking down at the white mech.
Once he was up and looking down at Drift, the pair suddenly went silent. This
feeling... this strange sensation he was feeling as the young Prime stared at
him from his position was taking over again. He was starting to feel hot.
Things forming in his mind made no sense. Even the taste in his mouth felt
wrong. What was wrong with him? Was the hot sol affecting his mind or
something? It didn't take him long to process that Rodimus was currently
straddling him, his face above his but close enough for him to feel his warm
breath wash against his face. A clicks passed before Drift realised that
Rodimus' rear end was sitting right above his pelvic armour, and it was making
him heat up even more. Oh frag, what should he do?
He looked back at Rodimus, hoping he could provide some answers, but the young
Prime staring down at him in a peculiar way. He didn't utter a single word, or
budge an inch; he just stared down at Drift, as if he was in a trance. What was
going on? What was this weird feeling building up between them? Why was he
feeling hot? Why was Rodimus getting hot? Why was his spark pulsing even harder
than before? What should he do? What should do?
"Rodimus Prime?"
The two mechs reacted upon hearing a, not too far away, loud voice. Broken out
of his trance, Rodimus suddenly rolled off Drift, landing next to him. Drift
quickly sat up, just in time too, for walking into the training grounds was
Ultra Magnus, bearing a foul mood by the looks of things too. The two young
mechs quickly stood up, with Rodimus almost stumbling over. The pair of them
were masking their panic with calm expressions, though they looked they were
about to crumble.
Ultra Magnus stood before the pair, glaring at them with his hands on his hips.
Despite their efforts to cover it up, the vice-commander could easily see that
something was up. He looked at Rodimus first, the young Prime looking up at him
with optics that were trying to appear innocent. He then looked at Drift, the
white mech making the mistake of avoiding optic contact with him. Ultra Magnus
made an angry sound with his throat. If there was one thing he hated, it was
when someone tried to hide something obvious from him.
He folded his arms, and gave the pair his signature glare. "What have you two
been doing?" he demanded, looking like he was ready to scream all manner of
things at them.
Drift gulped, and looked over at Rodimus, the young Prime looking back at him
with a panicked look. Before he could even start to defend himself, Rodimus
looked up at Ultra Magnus and said, "D-Drift wasn't feeling well, Ultra
Magnus!" The Magnus looked at him, raising an optic brow at him. Rodimus didn't
back down though. "H-he's not used to the heat you see, so he needed to lie
down and drink some chilled energon. Right Drift?"
Drift looked back at Rodimus, the young Prime pulling a strange face at him. He
soon figured out it meant to play along, thus he too looked at Ultra Magnus,
and nodded. "Y-yeah, I wasn't feeling well. The heat in your land is hotter
compared to mine."
"You see," exclaimed Rodimus, "He wasn't feeling well, so lay off him!"
The Magnus continued to glare at them, his expression unchanging. Didn't he
believe them? Well if they were listening to themselves, not even they would
believe it. Instead, they just made it sound even more suspicious. All they
could was wait for Ultra Magnus to pass judgment upon them.
The Magnus merely stared at them for a moment. He then sighed, and glared at
Drift. "If you not feeling well, then go to the healing chambers and report to
Ratchet," he ordered, his blue optics piercing into his very being without
care. "I trust you can make it there without collapsing, yes?"
Drift winced; wondering if was too late to own up. It wasn't the fact that he
didn't want to meet Ratchet again, but if he went there feeling perfectly fine,
then the healer would chew his audios out for wasting his time. Looking back at
Rodimus, the young Prime cocked his head away, as if to tell him to just go. He
looked back at Ultra Magnus, who stood there, waiting for him to make his move.
Sighing in defeat, Drift lowered his head, and proceeded to make his way to the
healing chambers, in a slow manner. He could only pray that Ratchet would be in
a good enough mood. Or maybe he could pretend he was going to the healing
chambers, but go back to his own room. No, that wouldn't work, for last time he
informed Ultra Magnus he was going to the library, but changed his mind at the
last click, the Magnus gave him a personal telling off for misinforming him
about his location. It was painful to admit, but he no choice. He carefully
walked past Ultra Magnus, and just as he was about to enter the doorway, he
looked back. Ultra Magnus was still glaring at him, but Rodimus waved to him,
mouthing the words, "good luck" to him, without the Magnus noticing. Drift
smiled a little, but as he looked at Rodimus, he found himself looking down
towards his lower regions. Mentally cursing himself, he dashed indoors, and
forced these horrible ideas out of his mind.
What in the pit was he thinking? Why did he feel so weird when Rodimus was on
top of him? Why did he get so hot? These thoughts, these feelings, they were
sensations that he should not have, especially when it involved a Prime. Yes,
Rodimus Prime may be beautiful and cunning, but to Drift that was all he was.
He was a Prime, not someone he could drool over and have fantasies with. It was
wrong to think of such things, whether it was a Prime or not. Yes, he did not
care for Rodimus in that way. He was his friend and nothing more. Just a
friend. That was all he is, and forever shall be.
As Drift made his way, slowly, to the healing chambers, Ultra Magnus sighed and
looked back down at the young Prime. His cold glare turned into a disapproving
frown. "Rodimus Prime, you are a poor liar, and I do not enjoy it when I'm
being lied to in a obvious fashion."
The young Prime groaned, knowing he was in for it now. "Oh come on Ultra
Magnus," he whined, tired of the Magnus' attitude "Can't you just relax for
once, without you getting angry at every small thing we do."
"If it were up to me, I'd have him sent back home in an instant," growled the
Magnus, "He's nothing but a trouble maker. Why he even had the gull to launch
your brother into a pile of crates!"
That actually made Rodimus laugh. "Yeah," he giggle, "Optimus told me about
that. Wish I could have seen it."
"Oh for the love of Primus, the act of throwing someone, who happens to be a
Prime, is not funny,' snapped the Magnus, not pleased with how Rodimus was
reacting to his explanation.”He may have apologised afterward, but he still
reeks of trouble. I was hoping he would have left with Master Axe but no, he
didn't. Now, I'm stuck with him."
Rodimus suddenly huffed at him, folding his arms in an angry way. "Why do you
hate him so much?"
These words actually made Ultra Magnus look surprised. "Hate him? I don't hate
him, I just-"
"Hah, and you say I'm a poor liar," laughed the young Prime, though he bore a
dark glare in his optics. "Ever since he arrived, you've been treating him
worse than the twins! OK, so he knocked my brother into a pile of crates, but
he's from another land, and their customs are different to ours! Even Optimus
told me that Drift mistook his handshake for a invite to spar. He apologises
whenever he messes up, but for some reason that's never good enough for you.
What has he ever done to you?"
Ultra Magnus rolled his optics and sighed heavily. "I would rather not talk
about it Rodimus Prime. Now, if you have finished your afternoon training, I
have to place the safety latch onto your weapon."
It was Rodimus' turn to sigh, tucking his arms behind his back. "Oh come on,
I'm not going to kill anyone with them," he protested.
"That may be true, but until you have been approved by Sir Kup, the latch stays
on," retorted the Magnus. "Now come on, arms out."
Rodimus huffed, but knowing that he had no other choice gave in, slowly
revealing his arms. The Magnus gave a nod of approval, which was his weird way
of appreciation since he was still frowning, and due to his height, the Magnus
had to bend down on one knee before the young Prime. He carefully took hold of
one the young Prime's arms, and began to attach the safety device. Rodimus
sighed as he felt the Magnus gently attach the safety latch.
Looking away, the young Prime began to ponder on a few things. Before Drift
showed up, his days in the palace had been slow and boring. There was no one to
play with, no one to share stories with, and everywhere he went he would be
treated like a poor lonely child, one that was precious and could never be
touched. Servants would talk behind his back, nobles and knights would look at
him, pretending they understood. Optimus had done his best to provide him a
decent life, but it was never enough. He had gone through many things he wished
he could erase from mind. Optimus' unusual mood swings, his blasted future that
followed him everywhere to remind he could not escape, and his father... oh how
he wished his father would leave him alone. He hated it when his father would
decide to... check him. How he dreaded and despised those sols.
Peering at Ultra Magnus, who was adding the final safety latch on, Rodimus had
to admit that the rude mech had been somewhat decent with him during his youth.
Yes, he would scold him, and punish him whenever he did something wrong, but he
had looked out for him, in his strict and cold way. In fact, now that he
thought about it, he was guarding him most of the time, acting like a devoted
bodyguard, but with a foul attitude. Whenever Optimus would get into one of his
moods, Ultra Magnus would carry him away. Whenever Sentinel gave him a hard
time, Ultra Magnus would step in and shoo the young Prime away. Whenever he was
lonely, Ultra Magnus would give him something to do, and even though they were
things he would rather not do, he was happy that at least someone paid
attention to him. He had a bizarre way of helping him, but at least he wasn't
all that bad.
But now Drift was here, and Rodimus felt different with him around. He felt
like he a purpose, a drive, something he could call his own. His pent up
enthusiasm finally exploded when Drift came to the palace, his eagerness and
desire to spend time with one he could call a friend was just as strong as any
blade. He was scared that Drift would leave him at first, but when he announced
he would stay; Rodimus smiled a genuine smile for the first time since ever. He
wanted to experience of true friendship with Drift, explore every aspect of it,
and one sol when all was bleak, all he had to do was look back on those
youthful sols and he knew it would bring a smile to his face.
Though lately, whenever he looked at Drift, or came into close contact with
him, he felt strange. His spark would pulse fast, and his body would heat up in
a funny way. His cheeks would burn, and his mind would become fuzzy. He had
never felt like this before. These feelings and sensations were new to him. Was
it because Drift was the first friend he ever had?
"All done," said Ultra Magnus suddenly.
Rodimus looked up, the safety latches now firmly attached. He sighed in
annoyance as he examined his arms, wishing he didn't have to be treated like an
infant. He wished they would trust him, rather than keep these blasted
restraints on him. Aw well, at least he was allowed to carry his weapon about,
despite being locked up. He was a little surprised how gentle the Magnus
handled him. Given his strict nature, he was certain he would have tugged and
pinched at him, but the young Prime barely noticed him at all.
"Thanks Ultra Magnus," he sighed, turning around to head indoors, "Now I'll be
going to my room for a while."
The Magnus nodded in response. "Make sure you study for your lessons," he
asked, ignoring the small angry sound Rodimus made. "And by the way, tomorrow
will be the sol you learn about... ahem... how life works."
Rodimus turned round, confused by what the Magnus had said. He was even more
surprised to see that the Magnus seemed embarrassed about something. Even his
face was turning a faint shade of pink, and he was avoiding making optic
contact. What was he learning about tomorrow? Let's see, there was geography,
the history of the Old Knights, the third part of his speech lesson, and
then... oh... now he remembered. Primus, he had forgotten all about that. He
had been reminded by his brother, and even his father, about this certain
lesson, and it was rather important. He must have been distracted with his new
weapon, that he cleaned forgot it. No wonder the Magnus was embarrassed. It was
actually quite funny to see him like that.
"Thanks for reminding me," he replied using a normal tone, turning round once
more. "Don't worry; I'll be prepared since I'm old enough now. It might even be
fun. Heck, I might even bring Drift along. Maybe he already knows some of that
stuff, and if not, we can learn about it together."
Ultra Magnus now looked alarmed upon hearing these words. "You can't take
someone like him into such a private lesson, he-"
"HE is my friend," snapped Rodimus, not facing the Magnus, but still put on an
angry face. "And what he and I do together is none of your business."
With that said and done, the young Prime left the training grounds quickly,
just in case the Magnus would tell him off for being raising his voice at him.
It annoyed him when he tried to do this, spoiling his fun in pitiful ways. Sure
he watched him as he grew up, but that didn't give him the right to dictate his
life now. Ultra Magnus may have authority over him on a great number of things,
but when it came to his friendship with Drift, he had absolutely no say in the
matter.
As the young Prime vanished back into the palace, the Magnus stood there in
complete silence, biting his lip hard until mech blood seeped down his chin.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Seven
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - T
Warnings so far - Implied office sex, talk of adulthood, suggestive talking
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
Standing before the door of the healing chambers, Drift wondered if he should
just go back to his room rather than disturbing the head healer, Ratchet. If he
did, he wouldn't get a telling off by Ratchet for wasting his time, but if he
didn't Ultra Magnus would tell him off for lying and possibly punish him. The
last thing he wanted was to polish all the blades in the Autobot Knight
barracks again. By the Blade, how did he get into this situation? If only that
damn Magnus didn't stalk him whenever he was with Rodimus, he wouldn't have to
choose between getting shouted at by a gruff healer or a rude vice-commander.
Then again, he could ask Ratchet about that funny sensation he had when Rodimus
ended up falling on him. It still confused him, and even worried him. In the
past he had been tackled and straddled by sparring partners before, and he
never experienced that strange sensation until now. Was it because it wasn't a
fight? Or maybe it was the heat? Or maybe it was because he had a Prime sitting
on him? Heck, it could have even been that chilled energon that made him feel
funny. Whatever the reason, he had to know why he experienced such things.
Although he was a little nervous to speak with Ratchet on his own turf, he had
to go in, so he could understand what happened to him, and so Ultra Magnus
wouldn't get angry at him.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked upon the door. At first no one answered, and
he was about to knock again when at last, a voice from within answered. "Hello?
You can come in, it's open."
Huh, that wasn't the rough voice of Ratchet. It was younger, and much softer.
It didn't make him feel like he was about to get hit on the head, or fear for
his life. Opening the door, he peeped in and spotted a mech, donning similar
apparel that Ratchet wore, moving some items around and muttering to himself.
He was much younger than Ratchet, and a bit shorter. He donned a bright blue
visor that shielded his optics, and a strange looking mask that covered his
lower face.
He placed a couple of beakers down, before looking up at the white mech. "Hello
there, have you come for a check up?" He appeared to be smiling from under his
mask, as he walked over to greet Drift. "I have to warn you that we're out of
the painkillers until this evening, but I can-" He paused for a moment after he
got a better look at the white mech. "Oh! You're that young fella from Crystal
City. The one who's keeping our young Prime entertained."
Drift stared at him for a moment, stunned a little that there was a nice healer
before him. He did seem nice and friendly enough to trust, and he could detect
a very cheerful and upbeat attitude from his aura. He didn't realise there were
other healers in the palace. On second thought in a palace this size, he should
he surprised if there was only one healer in the palace. Still, he wasn't
expecting one to be so nice. Ever since seeing Ratchet, he assumed they were
all alike.
"So did our young Prime hurt you already?" queried the young healer, still
acting sweet towards him. "Not that he has hurt anyone before, but you never
know these sols, right?"
The white mech responded with a shake of the head. "No, he hasn't hurt me," he
explained, still trying to figure out how to put this all into the form of a
question. "You see, we were both in the training grounds and... err... he and
I... well... it was hot and-"
Before he could try and explain any further, the nice healer pulled him into
the healing chambers, closed the door behind them and led him through a large
room. "It's OK, you can explain it all to Ratchet," he suggested. "Last I
checked, it was him you were assigned to, and thankfully he has some free time
and honestly he needs to do something to take his mind off whatever is
bothering him." He continued to yammer on, ignoring the panicked look on
Drift's face.
He dragged him to, what looked like the elevators he saw back at the port, only
smaller and with dozens of switches to push. Once inside and a bar rose up to
block the exit, the friendly healer gently glided his finger along the row of
switches until it landed on one that, Drift was just guessing since he couldn't
fully understand Iaconian written language, research and medicine. Once pushed,
the elevator hummed and Drift flinched when it started to move upwards. As it
rose, Drift found that they were passing other floors. Some they passed were
either riddled with doors, or with other mechs. He even saw a few more healers,
but they were moving at a speed where he didn't have long to study their faces,
or even what kind of floor they were on. The friendly healer was humming a
tune, his fingers tapping along a bar until their ride came to a stop. Drift
braced as the elevator halted and looked round to see they were in a very large
room, filled with messy workbenches, shelves filled with books, cabinets filled
with chemicals or bizarre objects, and charts covered in puzzling formulas.
There were a few healers around, chatting or arguing with others about their
work. Some were mixing chemicals with other chemicals, others were using
strange tools to analyse their work, whilst others were either writing things
in blank data pads.
He couldn't look round and admire for long, for the friendly healer grabbed him
again and dragged him through the large chamber without another word. As they
past the other healers, the friendly one that held him either greeted a few
with a quick hello, or ignored the other ones who shouted at him. Some of the
healers gave Drift odd looks, and others made strange wooing sounds at him. One
even cried out, "Hey Aid is he Ratchet's dessert?" The friendly healer retorted
with, "No, he's a patient assigned to the head healer, and a guest at the
palace." That was answer was responded with, "That's never stopped him before!"
followed with laughter.
Drift was confused by all the banter. What did they mean by "Ratchet's
dessert", and that he was it? Oh Primus, did he eat other mechs? No that was
stupid. It must have been an Iaconian term or something, but what did it mean?
Or maybe he wasn't listening probably, and mistook it for some other word? The
wooing sounds unsettled him. Were they angry at him? Upset with his presence?
None of what they said made any sense to him. Was this the way all healers
spoke?
Once they crossed the large room, they came to a semi circular row of
elevators. Some were present, some were just arriving with healers walking out
or into them, and some had signs with a big crimson cross blocking the
entrance. They climbed into one in the middle, and once again the bar rose to
block their exit. This time the switches had a list of names under them, but
the friendly healer pushed the one that said, Head Healer Ratchet's office. The
elevator moved upwards again, at a faster speed this time.
As they rose, the friendly healer finally spoke to him. "Sorry about the
detour," he explained as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. "Usually I
would have taken you to the private treatment room, where Ratchet is normally
located, but today he's in his personal office way up here." He finished with a
small shrug, and proceeded to hum a happy tune.
Drift didn't even know where to begin asking questions. He knew the healing
chambers were big, given that it was one gigantic tower within the palace, but
he didn't realise that it held so many healers. Why did they have so many
healers? Was this their headquarters, and of it was, why was it in the palace
of the Primes? Wouldn't it be much better to have it within the city? All these
questions and he wasn't sure what to ask first.
Before he could even open his mouth, the elevator came to a halt. "We're here,"
chirped the friendly healer, opening the bar and escorting the white mech out.
Looking around, Drift was surprised to see how lavish it was compared to what
he had seen so far. It was like some sort of reading room, like the one he
studied in, only more elegant. There were some large seats made entirely of
soft mesh, decorated with plump cushions form from air. A small table lay
before it, with a jug of chilled energon and some neatly stacked glasses. Large
floating crystals that illuminated the room with a gentle light. Plants that
were foreign to Drift were dotted here and there, and were beautiful to look
at. There was even a shelf filled with data pads, all of them looked appealing
to read, though Drift still wasn't familiar with the written langue of the
land. There was also a door on the other side of the room, etched with
beautiful patterns and shapes. There was a sign that caught his attention
labelled, "Do not enter or else!" and above that was another sign that was even
more terrifying, "Ratchet's Office."
The friendly healer ushered Drift to follow him, failing to notice how timid
the white mech was. Drift followed regardless, noting that the walk from the
elevator to the door was taking a bit longer than he anticipated. As he got
closer to the door, he noticed there was a desk covered with open data pads,
but no one sitting before it. Was this Ratchet's desk? But if it was, why was
it out here and not in his office? Primus, he was coming up with so many
questions that it was starting to hurt his head.
Standing before the door, the friendly healer knocked a few times, not showing
any fear as he did. "Ratchet, it's First Aid," he called out, alerting Drift to
his name at last. "I have someone out here to see you." He proceeded to open
the door, not even bothering to wait for a reply. "I checked the list, and he
is assigned to you so-" The door was halfway open, but before Drift could even
peep in, the friendly healer slammed it shut again without warning. Looking up,
Drift found that First Aid seemed to be embarrassed, yet very angry at the same
time. What was that all about? Dammit, more questions and not an answer in
sight. Before he could ask, the friendly healer knocked at the door again, only
harder and in a furious way. "Ratchet! Tell your partner to get out and do some
actual work!"
For a moment nothing happened, but after a few clicks the door opened. Drift
was expecting it to be Ratchet, but instead someone else walked out. A young
and fair looking mech, and possibly a healer given the way he was dressed. He
appeared exhausted, flustered, and a little annoyed as he walked past them.
There was also a bizarre smell about him, a scent that Drift had never smelt
before yet it reminded him of something. First Aid merely huffed at the young
mech who appeared as he strode into the office, dragging Drift in with him, the
white mech not having a chance to protest.
Once inside, Drift found that the smell was stronger in here, but he still
could not determine what it was. It was neither good nor bad, it was just odd.
Looking up, he marvelled at what stood before him, forgetting what was flowing
through his olfaction sensors. Large and decorated shelves filled with many
data pads, complete with spiral steps that lead to the data pads higher up.
Glowing crystals that were suspended in mid air floated about, giving certain
areas of the room light. The windows were decorated with beautiful patterns,
similar to those paintings he saw in the grand gallery. There were even some of
these paintings decorating the room, though Drift did not recognise anyone
within them. The floor was even something to marvel at, for the mesh carpeting
was filled with patterns with such detail that it must have taken eons just to
craft one meter of it. Whoever crafted it must have been a true artist.
As he continued to admire the chamber, there was a loud cough. Drift looked up,
noticing a large desk that was quite messy compared to the one outside. It was
sitting before a large window, decorated with a symbol that was similar to the
ones adorning the uniform the healers wore. The cough came again, and Drift
only had to look downwards a little. Sitting at the desk was the head healer,
Ratchet, who looked angry and a little flustered. He was glaring at the
friendly healer, who was rushing about and opening some windows.
They seemed to be arguing about something, ignoring the fact that Drift was
there. "Primus Ratchet, can't you go through one sol without playing with your
damn secretary," muttered First Aid, slamming windows open left and right.
"Just because you're the head healer, doesn't mean you can take advantage of
employees!" Once the last window was open, he started spraying a strange
chemical in the air.
Ratchet huffed at him, sipping some strong scented energon. "Pah, he was fine
with it until you barged in," he snapped, slamming his glass down. "I thought I
told you to take care of my duties till I was done."
"Yes you did," responded First Aid with a growl, "but not when you're off
fooling around with pretty mech out there." He walked over to the desk and
slammed a hand down. "So I brought him up to see you."
Drift winced when the healers looked straight at him. He was hoping he could
sneak out but it was too late now. If there was one thing he did not enjoy, it
was being caught in the middle of an argument with mechs he barely knew. He
wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what to say. Should he greet him?
Should he apologise for his presence? Oh Primus, why did he have to tell Ultra
Magnus he needed a healer?
Ratchet looked at Drift, raising an optic brow at him. He didn't seem annoyed
at his presence. He actually seemed curious. He looked over First Aid and
asked, "What's wrong with him?" He took another sip from his glass. "In the
whole time he's been here, he's never needed a healer."
"Oh please Ratchet, he's here because-... because..." First Aid trailed off,
unsure of what to say. He then looked over at Drift and laughed in an uneasy
tone. "Say there, what was wrong with you again?"
The silence meant that Drift was allowed to speak at last, though he wasn't
even sure what to say. Heck, he didn't even what was wrong with him in the
first place. The two healers stared at him, waiting for the white mech to say
something. Drift bit his lips, feeling coolant trickle down his face.
Everything had been happening so fast that he couldn't handle it. He didn't
know what to ask. He didn't know how to answer their question. By the blade, he
just wanted to leave this place and go back to the garden.
He was so deep and lost in thought; he failed to notice that Ratchet was now
standing before him. He flinched when he felt the cool red hand press against
his forehead, surprised how gentle it was. The head healer made a curious sound
as his hand carefully caressed Drift's forehead. "He's a little warm," murmured
Ratchet, removing his hand and standing back up. "It's just the heat; he's not
used to it. First Aid, go fetch some Profen and a glass of regular energon,
none of the chilled crap. Damn chefs put weird spices in it."
The friendly healer nodded, and turned to leave. Drift wanted him to stay, but
couldn't find the right words. He was feeling a little hot, and hopefully this
stuff First Aid was fetching would make him feel better. Once he was gone,
closing the door behind him, Ratchet huffed in annoyance. He muttered a few
things as he collapsed into his chair, and downed another glassed of his strong
energon. Drift stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to do.
Ratchet looked over at him and sighed. "Relax, I don't bite," he sighed. He
pointed to an empty chair. "Come on and sit down already. You look stupid
standing there."
Drift looked at the empty chair, and then back at Ratchet. He had sat with him
before, back in the garden, so he shouldn't fear him but he still gave him this
sense of dread. Under that rough expression he did seem like a decent person,
but the white mech could feel this swirling vortex of bitter and foul emotions.
Maybe that was why he was a little uneasy being around him. He was full of
these horrid emotions that it practically radiated off him, affecting
everything around him. He could smile and say pleasant things, but even then
others would fear him. He wondered why he was like that, but it was not his
place to ask. That and he was afraid to find out.
Giving in, he cautiously walked over and sat down before the head healer.
Ratchet watched him, not uttering a word but did down another freshly poured
glass of the strong scented energon. He poured another one, sighing as he did.
Drift felt a little uncomfortable, not sure if he should at least say
something. He hated this silence.
"By the way, thanks for watching my stuff," announced Ratchet suddenly.
Drift blinked, and realised he must have been talking about the items he had
with him back in the garden. "Oh, no problem," he responded, smiling a little.
Ratchet suddenly glared at him and sighed angrily. "I was being sarcastic, you
glitch," he muttered, downing his second glass. "You ran off before I even got
back."
The white mech winced again, looking away. He had totally forgotten about that.
After Rodimus had run into the garden in a worrying state, he decided to leave
with him. Ratchet sighed and waved a hand at him. "Forget it, none of it was
missing," he muttered, sipping his strong scented energon. "I just had to deal
with Ultra Magnus after all that crap." He made a little yawn as he began to
organise his messy desk. "So, I guess you're not used to the heat here?"
The white mech nodded in response. "It's a whole lot warmer than I expected,"
he replied, his fingers stroking his own cape in a rough way. "But it's what
happened with Rodimus that made me feel funny to begin with."
Ratchet looked over at him, a puzzling expression filling his face. "What did
he do? Knock you on the head or something?"
"Oh no," answered Drift, shaking his head as he spoke. "I-It's just that...
well... we were training and... I started to feel weird."
"Weird how?" asked the healer, leaning a little closer to Drift.
Drift blushed as he recalled what transpired not too long ago in the training
grounds. "Well... he started calling me a pervert, b-because I was staring at
him. I told him I wasn't but he insisted I was and then I... I fell over and he
f-fell on top of... me... and that's when I started feeling weird. I-I don't
know why but... I felt hot and floaty as he sat on me and... I don't know why.
I've never felt like that before. Am I ill? Is it the heat?"
He was half expecting Ratchet to shout at him for allowing Rodimus to fall on
top of him, but to his surprise the healer started to laugh. Not a small
chortle, but a loud and almost audio shattering howls of laughter. He had
thrown his head back, and slammed his hand onto the table, laughing like mad.
Drift could only stare at him. What was so funny?
Ratchet wiped a tear away before answering. "How old are you kid?"
That question made Drift blink twice. "W-what? I'm nearly six vorns old
but-..."
The healer raised a hand to stop him from speaking any further. "Relax kid,
you're not ill. You're just growing up."
"Growing up?" queried Drift, confused by the statement. "Of course I'm growing
up, but what does that have to do with anything."
Ratchet laughed again, smiling in a weird fashion. "Damn, you're just a
clueless," he chuckled, patting the white mech on the helm. "Obviously you
don't know what I mean. I might just be able to remedy that."
Before Drift could ask what he meant by that, the door opened and First Aid
returned, carrying a glass of regular blue energon and a small box. The
friendly healer looked at the pair of them, and made an angry sound at the head
healer. He didn't seem pleased with how close Ratchet was to the white mech.
"Ratchet... You better not be-..."
"Oh for the love of Primus First Aid, no I wasn't!" snapped Ratchet, standing
up and walking over to him in a huff, "He's not my type anyway."
These words were confusing Drift once more. The way Iaconians talked was
bizarre and it was only making his headache worse. Why didn't they talk
normally? Ratchet glanced at the white mech for a moment, before pulling First
Aid into a corner, and spoke with him in low tones. It was clear to Drift that
it was a conversation that they didn't want him to hear. Sighing, he rested his
helm against Ratchet's desk, his optics wandering along the messed up paper
work, and strong scented energon spills.
It was then his optics landed on a small picture, propped up on the desk for
display. He sat up to get a better look at it, wondering what it contained. The
picture displayed three young mechs, all of which looked familiar. Looking a
little closer, he suddenly recognised who they were. The one on the left was a
very young looking Ratchet. He didn't look as intimidating as he did now,
though he was still very handsome. In the centre it was a younger version of
Optimus Prime. He was smiling along with Ratchet, and Drift had to admit he
reminded him of Rodimus a little. Their faces were a similar shape and their
optics were the same shade of blue, turquoise with a hint of teal in the
centre. He wondered if Rodimus ever noticed that. The one on the right almost
made Drift's jaw drop. It was a younger version of Ultra Magnus. He wasn't
smiling but he didn't appear to be that threatening in his youth. From the
looks of it, this picture was taken quite a while ago and he guessed that
Ratchet was a childhood friend of Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus.
There was some imprinted text along the frame. Drift could not understand it
but he did notice that it had been scratched at, as if someone had tried to
erase it with their hands. He wondered what it said. He wondered why it was
scratched at. Maybe it was an accident, or maybe it was intentional. He didn't
know, but it was nice to see such a happy scene. The three mechs within the
picture looked happy to be with each other, even Ultra Magnus despite his
frown. It was strange that he never seen them together, other than Optimus
Prime and Ultra Magnus. He guessed it was work related, but still the picture
made him feel happy in strange way.
"Hey kid," came a voice. The white mech looked up to see that Ratchet and First
Aid were looking at him again. "First Aid is going to give Rodimus Prime a
special lesson tomorrow. I think you will better understand what happened to
you if you participate with him."
Drift was curious. "What lesson?" he asked, sitting up a little.
First Aid stepped forward, smiling from under his mask. "Well, Rodimus Prime is
soon to be six vorns, and it's a tradition here that a couple of stellar cycles
before you reach that age, young mechs have to learn a certain something about
growing up." He walked over to the white mech, to hand over the blue energon
and a strange looking pill, from out of the box, placing them into his hands.
"I'm not sure how things are done in Crystal City, but I'm sure this will give
you a better understanding. Plus you're nearly six vorns yourself, and I'm not
surprised you experiencing the first signs of-"
"First Aid!" snapped Ratchet, interrupting him suddenly. "Wait till tomorrow,
alright?"
The friendly healer sighed, seemly wanting to tell Drift whatever it was he was
going to tell him, but obeyed the head healer. He did however inform Drift how
to take the medicine, the white mech doing as he instructed. He did gag on the
bitter taste the medicine had, but the blue energon helped rid his oral cavity
of it.
"So what is this lesson about?" he asked, curious as to why it was special.
First Aid shook his. "Sorry but you'll have to wait tomorrow," he explained.
"Now take the medicine and I'll escort you out of here."
Drift sighed, but knew he could wait till tomorrow. After downing the medicine
with the blue energon, a light on a nearby control panel suddenly started to
blink with a loud light and a loud noise. It startled both Drift and First Aid,
but it had another affect on the head healer. Ratchet growled with anger as he
rushed over to deal with it, slamming a hand down on the blinking light to stop
the sound. "Primus, what does he want now?" he snarled, grabbing a nearby bag.
He started walking towards a door hidden between the shelves, muttering foul
things. He paused for a moment and looked over at Drift. "Hey kid, come with me
and I'll get you back to the lower floors. First Aid, take over till I get
back." First Aid nodded, but Drift was a little lost. Ratchet growled again,
"NOW kid, I don't have all sol!"
That made Drift jump up, and he rushed over to join the head healer. He
followed Ratchet through the doorway, and they found themselves in a small
chamber with an elevator. Ratchet rushed into it, shoving Drift in without a
care and slammed a hand onto a lone button. Drift yelped when the elevator
started moving downwards at such a speed, he thought they were dropping
uncontrollably.
Ratchet could not help but smirk at the panicked look on the white mech's face.
"Relax kid; this is my emergency and personal lift. It does stop at a safe
speed," explained the healer, relaxing himself despite the speed. "I use it
whenever there is an emergency and I need a quick exit."
Drift tried to relax, but they already reached the bottom before they could.
Ratchet calming raised the bar, kicking the white mech out so he could close it
behind him. Drift followed him through a narrow passageway before they came to
a large door. Ratchet cautiously opened it, peering out as if he was checking
if the coast was clear. He then grabbed Drift by the arm and threw him out.
Drift stumbled into a large hallway, filled with mesh curtains decorating the
walls. He looked back to see Ratchet step out of the door, closing it behind
him, and pulling at a cord. A large curtain suddenly drooped down, hiding the
door from plain sight.
Ratchet looked over at Drift with a frown on his face. "Do me a favour, and do
not tell Rodimus about this door," he ordered, a serious glint in his optics.
"If he finds out about it, he will go up there, and the last thing I want is my
office ruined by a little Prime who acts before thinking." And with that said
and done, he turned his back on Drift and walked away.
Drift watched as he left, and decided to retire to his own room. He was tired,
but that medicine did seem to help clear up his headache. He did glance at the
hidden door before leaving, surprised that such a thing was hidden from view.
He had walked down this hallway many times, but never would have imagined that
such a door was hidden. It made him wonder if there were other doors hidden all
around him.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Eight
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - A lesson on reproduction
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
Drift was a little eager to see what kind of lesson he would be sharing with
Rodimus, the so called special lesson that Ratchet had told him about. The
healers had explained to him that it was essential for a mech nearing six vorns
to have this lesson, and it shouldn't be a problem for him to join in. Drift
still had no idea what it was about. Even Rodimus was unsure what it was about,
but he did know it had something to do with becoming an adult. This did confuse
the white mech, as he explained to the young Prime, that in Crystal City one
had to earn their adulthood, not listen to some lecture about it. Rodimus was
intrigued to learn more but they had hurry to their special lesson.
As they approached the classroom door, Ultra Magnus stood before it waiting for
them. He glared at the pair of them but Drift was certain he was glaring at him
in a darker way. Rodimus merely ignored him as he walked in but before Drift
could enter Ultra Magnus suddenly raised his arm, blocking his path into the
classroom.
Before he could even demand an answer for this rude behaviour, Ultra Magnus
leaned down until they were optic level and growled viciously. "Don't you dare
get any funny ideas after this brat," he hissed, his rage ringing in every word
he uttered.
Drift didn't make any optic contact with him, but glared into empty space. Once
the Magnus left his side, the white mech then looked over at him with a vicious
glare of his own. What was his deal? Why did he hate him so much? OK, he did
throw Optimus Prime into a pile of junk by accident and call him a few names,
but he didn't have to continue being rude towards him. He still couldn't
believe that he was friends with Optimus Prime and Ratchet. How someone that
horrid was able to form a friendship with two other mechs was unbelievable.
Ignoring it for now, he walked into the classroom. He guessed that this was
where Rodimus had all his lessons. It was a nice room, decorated in a way that
would keep you alert. It had shelves here and there, filled with data pads.
Charts and diagrams were placed on the walls, filled with knowledge about the
world and the known universe. Models of ships floated in the air, whilst some
were placed on mantles for display. There was also a beautiful mural of the Old
Knights and of the Thirteen, displayed all over the ceiling. What an enchanting
place to learn all of life's lessons. Surrounded by knowledge, art and wonder,
it was the perfect place to study and further ones education.
His attention then focused on Rodimus, waving to him from a decorated desk.
There was another desk next to it, and Drift guessed it was for him. Thankfully
he knew how to sit on it, for he had much practise during his stay here. As he
approached, someone else entered the classroom. Drift recognised the new mech
as First Aid, the friendly healer from the other sol. He remembered that he
mentioned that he was the one giving the lesson, and he was thankful that it
was him and not Ratchet.
"Good morning to you, young Rodimus Prime," greeted First Aid, bowing before
Rodimus before turning to Drift. "And good morning to you, young Drift."
Wanting to be polite, Drift bowed back.
At least First Aid wasn't scary as Ratchet or as rude as Ultra Magnus, or
anything in between. No, this mech was one of the most friendliest mechs he had
ever met since coming to Iaconina, besides Optimus Prime of course. He gave one
the impression that he was naive, but he was actually quite smart, and tough
despite his small size. Heck, he even shouted at Ratchet without fear. He was
also quite young. From the looks of it, First Aid must have been at least past
9 vorns or even under 8 vorns. Either way, he was young for a healer. In
Crystal City, healers had to be at least over 12 vorns, since training took a
long period of time. Drift guessed that it was different in this land, like so
many other things.
First Aid hummed as he began to set up a screen. Rodimus yawned as he rested
his arms upon the desk and then rested his head upon his arms. The healer
noticed this and made a loud noticeable cough. "Rodimus Prime, you need to stay
awake for this."
Rodimus sat up and sighed. "I am, I'm just waiting for you to start," was his
argument. The friendly healer chuckled at the young Prime instead of shouting
at him, and continued to set up the special lesson. Rodimus huffed loudly, and
looked over at Drift. "So are you excited?" he asked.
Drift was unsure how to answer that. "A little, I guess," he answered,
shuffling upon his seat. "I'm still not sure what it is about."
The young Prime pouted. "You should be excited," he declared with a grin.
"Optimus told me that this one of the most important lessons in my life." He
then looked down, a strange expression on his face. "Though he seemed worried
too."
"Worried about what?" asked Drift, now a little concerned. "The only reason I'm
here is because Ratchet said it would me understand what happened when-..." He
quickly bit his glossa, not wanting Rodimus to know what happened when the
young Prime fell on top of him.
Rodimus was about to ask what he was about to say, but First Aid had finally
finished preparing for the lesson. "OK you two, as you know I am the deputy
head healer of the palace of the Primes, and I have been assigned to teach you
one of the many wonders of becoming an adult." A blue screen suddenly
illuminated behind him, displaying the title "The beginning of life and beyond"
with a small caption stating that it was written by the very mech standing
before them.
The two young mechs appeared confused upon reading the title. Rodimus raised
his arm and asked, "I thought this was about adulthood? What is this about life
and beyond?"
First Aid smiled from beneath his mask, obviously aware that he would receive
such queries from the young Prime. "This is a very important lesson for the
pair of you," he explained, using a stern but relaxed voice. "If you wish to be
a true adult, you have to understand how life begins, and what changes you go
through, now that you are both nearly six vorns old."
Young Rodimus pouted from where he sat, not at all pleased with this. "I
thought we were going to do things only adults do," he grumbled. "Like riding
the airships, go on hunts, or go to those parties that only adults can go to. I
thought this was the briefing part."
Drift had also believed that was what was going to happen in this lesson, only
he thought that once he reached adulthood he would be allowed to wield a great
spark blade or go out in a scouting party, which he wasn't allowed to do till
he was an adult. The way Rodimus had said it, it sounded like he was expecting
this to be some sort of great sol out, to do adult things. He guessed that the
pair of them got it all wrong.
"I'm sorry young Rodimus Prime," explained First Aid, "But this whole lesson is
nothing more than to help you understand the changes that you and your body go
through now that you are nearing your sixth vorn, and where we all start in
life."
Rodimus responded with a loud groan, and slumped forward on his desk. It seemed
his hopes had suddenly been snatched away. Drift could not help but snicker at
the disappointed Prime, and he was lucky that Rodimus was too upset to not
notice this. The last time he laughed at one of the young Prime's misfortunes,
he was given the silent treatment for quite some time, and getting the silent
treatment from Rodimus was actually a little creepy.
First Aid walked over and patted the young Prime on the helm. "Well you should
be pleased to hear that this lesson isn't even that long, so you'll have plenty
of time to go play afterwards." Unfortunately that didn't seem to lighten the
young Prime's mood, and he mumbled a series of light curses into his arms.
First Aid chose to ignore this, walking back to his table and picking up two
small booklets. "I had these written up for you so you can study in your own
time, and learn about adulthood yourselves. Rodimus Prime, I should point out
that Ultra Magnus demands an essay once you're done reading this-" this was
answered with an even louder groan of dismay "-and Drift, I had yours
translated, and I highlighted a section you might wish to read."
Drift glanced at the booklet, entitled "The a Wonders of Life and Beyond" with
a cute little picture of a sparkling beneath the title. What could this little
book of information teach him about his embarrassing problem? Whilst First Aid
prepared the lecture, Drift quickly glanced at the first page, slamming it shut
when he saw the title of the chapter, "Reproduction in Detail". He may be young
and naive about the world outside his homeland, but he knew when he was about
to learn something that would either destroy his mind or cause him to act
differently in the future.
He knew the basics of how their kind reproduced, but he never would have
believed he was about to have a whole lecture dedicated to it. Back home, the
elders would simply have "the talk" with their young ones. It was Master Axe
who taught Drift how he came to be, and Master Axe, along with Wing, were like
family. Drift could only assume that here, in Iaconia, the elders had their
young ones learn it from someone else, which he found bizarre. Nevertheless, he
decided to sit through this and learn about this sensitive subject from a
complete stranger. Who knows, he might learn something new.
"Ready to learn?" Asked First Aid, looking at the two young mechs. Drift
responded with a nod, whilst Rodimus made an uninterested grunt. First took
that grunt as a "yes" and began the lesson.
As the time passed, and even though it was a rather sensitive subject, Drift
was fascinated with what he was learning. He already knew about the basics of
it all. Cybertronians had two types, that were considered to be the closest
thing their kind had to a gender. Other creatures, like Turbo Foxes and
Sharkticons had a male and female gender, and it was easy to tell the two
apart, if you looked closely. Male Turbo Foxes had an interface spike and were
always the sires and females only had the interface port thus making them
carriers. Cybertronians had Alphas and Omegas. The Alpha was like a male Turbo
Fox and a Omega was like the female. Of course, unlike the Turbo Fox, it was
slightly harder to tell the two apart.
Both Alphas and Omegas had both spike and port. Why this was, no one knew, but
many believed it was because they were all made in Primus' image. Thankfully as
they grew older they could identify one another, but at birth it was a little
harder. At birth, the sparkling was inspected by the midwife, who was trained
to tell the two types apart. Apparently Alphas had a uniquely designed
interface spike compared to the Omegas, and Omegas interface port was right
between the legs with a special rim decorating it. The two young mechs blushed
as the were presented with awkward pictures and embarrassing diagrams.
First Aid also explained the whole bonding experience that Iaconians practised.
The people of Crystal City practised bonding too, so Drift knew that it was a
special ceremony when two mechs would declare their love to each other and
become one another's Conjunx Endura, meaning they would be together always.
Iaconians had a very strict view on bonding. Sometimes it was for love, other
times it was to provide sparklings, and mostly it was to unite two households,
to improve their status. To them, bonding was simply a contract and nothing
more. It was rare these sols to see two mechs bond for the purpose of love. It
may be common in the common areas of their land, but in the noble parts it was
too rare to see love in a bonding ceremony.
A while back, it was the law that an Alpha could only bond with an Omega. They
allowed Alphas to interface with Alphas, and likewise with the Omegas, but
bonding was out of the question. This made many of Iaconia's citizens upset,
resulting in a two hundred cycle protest against this law. It paid off when the
ruling Prime, Septimus Prime, decreed that anyone could mate with whom they
wanted to. Nothing like this ever happened in Drift's homeland. His people had
always practised in bonding with whom they loved, thus nothing like that ever
came up in his land.
There was one thing, a major condition that was vital to the bonding. The Omega
had to have their virginal seals intact. Omega's could interface, using their
spikes, with whomever they wanted before bonding, but their interface ports had
to remain untouched. It was an very old tradition, and it was practised in
every land on Cybertronia. If the Omega was found with broken seals before
bonding, they were considered worthless for mating and forbidden to bond with
anyone for the rest of their lives. Thus inspections were always carried out
before the ceremony, to make certain the Omega was always pure.
It was at this point that a First Aid paused, and looked over at Rodimus. Drift
also glanced at the young Prime, and was concerned when he noticed how
uncomfortable he looked. Rodimus was sitting very still, his hands clenched
into fists, and he looked like he was about to vomit. Maybe learning all about
this was too much for him? Drift did admit that some of these topics made him
feel unwell too, but Rodimus looked like he was about to faint.
First Aid stood before him, and asked in a gentle tone, "would you like to
continue, Rodimus?"
A click passed before Rodimus nodded slowly. As First Aid returned to restart
his lecture, the young Prime looked up, his optics coming into contact with
Drift's own. Before Drift could even smile, Rodimus looked away, his face
turning red. The white swordsmech could only assume that Rodimus was just
uncomfortable with what he was learning, and would return to his normal self
later on.
"Ready to continue?" Asked First Aid, holding one of his datapads. The two
mechs nodded. Thus they continued to learn.
The next part of the lesson covered in how a sparkling was created, what organs
that were used in the process, stages of the growth, and how the birthing was
carried out. They also learned how their body's changed as they grew, things
that would be noticed and things that were over looked. They were taught how
each organ contributed to the creation of a sparkling, what a carrier had to do
during the pregnancy, and the responsibilities of the sire. The was also a
small part about arousal, and First Aid pointed out to Drift that he
highlighted a page in his booklet he might want to read.
Drift took everything in, surprised how very informative the lesson was. He
wondered if "the talk" back home was anything like this, but he seriously
doubted it.
It was then that First Aid revealed that he was going to teach them something
that only Primes, and a privileged few, could know. He announced he wS going to
teach them the unique biology the Primes themselves had. Drift had assumed that
they were similar to everyone else, but then again the Primes were pure blooded
descendants of Primus, so it wouldn't surprise him that there would be
something unique about them.
As it turned out, Primes were both Alpha and Omega, meaning they could be a
sire or a carrier. First Aid explained that many aeons ago, the Old Knights of
Cybertronia lived upon this world in great numbers. They were the ancestors of
the Primes, and unlike the rest of the Cybertronians, they were mono gendered.
Today, however, there were only four.
"So how are we still able to reproduce, if there are only four of us, and we're
all family?" Asked a confused Rodimus.
"Excellent question, Rodimus," replied First Aid. "You see, for reasons
unknown, the number of Primes has been reduced to your entire family; your
father and your brothers. For ages, the ruling Primes have carried out a
tradition, that has lasted since the sols of the Old Knights."
First Aid went on to explain what the tradition was. When a Prime became the
Ruling Prime of all Cybertronia, he would select a special Omega to be the
Carrier of his sparkling. The Omega was always a well breed, perfect pedigree,
well trained mech, whom came from the House of Solus. The House of Solus have
always prepared the perfect Omega mechs for the Primes. They were either bred
from famous knights and notable Lords, or bought from Noble families. Nobles
always gave them their Omega sparklings, especially when it was near the time
for a new ruling Prime, in the hopes they would be chosen.
When the ruling Prime took over from his father, he would visit the House of
Solus to select the one who would birth his heir. After his heir is born, he
would select another one to birth his second sparkling. In fact, many Prime
siblings never shared the same carrier, it was always someone different. This
meant the Sentinel, Optimus, and Rodimus all had different Carriers.
"So Primes can mate with anyone?" Queried Rodimus, making certain he
understood.
First Aid sighed and folded his arms. "Yes, and no," he answered, "you see a
Prime can mate with an Omega and that Omega would bear his sparkling, but if an
Alpha tries to spark with a Prime, the Prime will never bear a sparkling."
Rodimus looked even more confused. "So Primes can never be carriers?"
"Well you can," explained First Aid, "but only with another Prime, and since
the only Primes are your father and brothers, that's never going to happen."
Rodimus made an "oh" sound, now understanding what he had been told. First Aid
sighed again and put his data pad back down on his desk. "Now is there anything
else you'd like to know? Anything you don't understand?"
Drift shook his head, fairly content with what he learnt, and planning to read
the highlighted page in his booklet later on. Rodimus, however, had another
query. "First Aid, who was my carrier?"
First Aid looked like he'd been hit with a rock. Drift looked at Rodimus with
shock. He didn't even know who gave birth to him? Surely he must have some
knowledge of his own carrier? Surely someone must have told him? Why had no one
told him?
The young healer made a small sound of panic, before answering. "I'm sorry
Rodimus, but I wasn't working here when you were born."
Rodimus frowned, knowing full well that he wasn't going to get an answer for
that question. "W-well... Do you know why I'm the only third child the Primes
ever had?"
Yet again, First Aid looked a little panicked, but quickly answered, "to be
honest Rodimus, I'm not sure why. Maybe your father wanted another child?"
Once more Rodimus looked annoyed that he wasn't going to get the answer he
wanted. Drift however could sense the concern and fear from First Aid, after
hearing those questions. Did he truly not know the answers, or was he afraid to
answer them? Drift had wondered himself why Rodimus was the only third child in
the Prime lineage. Captain Prowl had told him the Ruling Prime always had two
sons, one to be his heir and the other to bond with a noble. It seemed that
this fact had also brought the young Prime some concern. What was the reason
behind his birth?
"Any other questions?" Asked First Aid, trying not to show his concern. Rodimus
shook his head. "Well alright then," sighed the young healer, "that is the end
of the lesson, but if there is ever something you need help with, don't
hesitate to ask me or any other healer."
Rodimus made a loud sigh, before pushing himself up from his desk. Drift stood
up as well, bowing to First Aid before following Rodimus out of the room. He
looked at the booklet in his hands, making certain he would read that
highlighted page later. Looking up at Rodimus, he could sense the anger
bubbling within him. He must not have been happy with the answers First Aid
gave him.
Outside in the hallway, Drift felt the need to ask Rodimus how he was faring.
"Are you alright, Rodimus?" He asked.
The young Prime looked over at him, his bored expression trying to hide his
anger. "Yeah, but Primus that was boring, wasn't it?"
Drift smiled and shrugged. "I actually learned a few things from it, so I'm not
complaining."
Rodimus suddenly smirked and leaned in close to Drift. "So, are you an Alpha,
or an Omega?"
Drift blushed upon hearing the personal question from Rodimus. "W-what?" He
stammered, "why do you want to know all of a sudden?"
The young Prime shrugged. "I was curious," he sighed, "since I'm a Prime, I'm
technically both. I was just wondering what you were."
The white swordsmech rolled his optics, and started walking back to his room.
Rodimus immediately started to chase after him, calling out to him, and
demanding to know what type of mech he was.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Nine
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - Past suicide attempt
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
With only two more orbital cycles till the tournament, Rodimus and Drift
continued with their training. The young Prime was determined to enter, for the
winner would have their request of their choosing granted by the ruling Prime.
Apparently this was the main reason anyone with a wish that only a Prime could
grant would enter such a tournament. Of course not just anyone could enter, but
those that did had a good reason to, and it was for this prize alone. Drift was
uncertain what Rodimus wanted, but that did not sway his feelings upon entering
the tournament as the young Prime's second. At the spark of dawn till the rise
of the moons, they trained and trained and trained. Some sols they would have
friendly spars, other sols they would exercise their muscles in activities, and
on most sols they would fight each other, under the supervision of Sir Kup.
The elder knight had yet to approve of Rodimus entering, but so far he was
impressed with what he saw from the young mechs training. He would step in
every now and then to offer advice, or tell Rodimus off when he went over
board. In fact, by complete accident, Rodimus gave Drift a scar along his
cheek. Thankfully it was nothing serious, and it was completely healed by the
healers, but Rodimus was constantly apologising to Drift, even after he was
healed. Sir Kup was also in a bind, for he wasn't certain if he should praise
Rodimus or tell him off. He was impressed that the young Prime managed to
scratch the white swordsmech, for he had commented how skilled Drift was, but
he felt like he should tell him off since it was a friendly match. Drift
assured Rodimus he was fine, and the two carried on.
In their spare time, when not training, they would either play games, read each
other stories, or just relax in the gardens. At night, Drift would read the
booklet he was given, to help him understand what was happening to his body as
it dawned his sixth vorn. He was disgusted with himself when he learned that he
had been "aroused" when he made body contact with the young Prime. In fact he
punished himself by spending a night in a tub of ice cold bathing oils. He felt
better as he read on and learned that it was natural to be aroused by mechs he
found attractive, and he would be able to control it when he was older. In his
youth, it was understandable that he had problems knowing how to handle it. It
was merely a moment of weakness, and everybody went though with it, even those
from the Circle. Still that did not stop him from visiting the chapel of
Primus, and begging for forgiveness. He even took up advance meditating skills,
to make certain it would never happen again.
After a session of training, Rodimus explained to Drift, in detail, how the
tournament worked. A number of mechs would be entering, including the two
Primes, Sentinel and Optimus. They would enter with someone else, who would act
as their second. Upon entering, they would all then be organised into set
fights, and begin the first match. The winners from the first match would then
be organised again and begin the second match. This would continue until only
two remained, and whoever wins the final match wins the tournament.
"Depending how many enter, there could be any number of matches," explained
Rodimus, sipping his energon tea. "I heard that the last one had twenty-two
matches, and the one before had eleven."
Drift listened to every detail, wanting to fully understand what he was about
to experience. "What is the purpose of the second?" He asked.
Rodimus forced himself to swallow a mouthful of energon tea, before answering.
"Well, if I were to lose to someone I was fighting against, which I won't, it
will be up to you to fight in my place."
In other words, the second is the last resort should the competitor failed. If
the second lost, it would be all over, but if the second won, then they would
advance to the next match, as if nothing had ever happened. So if Rodimus did
lose, it would be up to Drift to win back the match. It was quite the weight on
his shoulders, but Drift was confident he could win back any match, should
Rodimus lose. So far he was doing well, but Drift had yet to see what he was
like against other knights. Rodimus was short, compared to the other Iaconians
he had seen, but he had grown a bit. Still, his size could be an advantage in a
spar.
One sol, the two mechs were greeted with wonderful news. Sir Kup had finally
decided to allow them to enter the tournament, and had just received approval
from Rodimus' father, Nominus Prime. He did point out to them though, that
Nominus wasn't too pleased that Rodimus wanted to enter, and Sir Kup had to do
a little pleading, knowing full well that Rodimus would be furious with him if
he didn't try. Apparently the ruling Prime was concerned that his young son
would get hurt. Drift was touched upon hearing this, but Rodimus seemed angry
to hear it.
"He seems truly worried for you Rodimus," explained Drift, wondering why the
young Prime was angry to hear his own sire was concerned for his safety.
Rodimus snorted, and folded his arms. "He doesn't care about me like that," he
growled.
Drift wondered what he meant by that. In fact, he had yet to see how Rodimus
acted around his father. On that note, he had yet to see the ruling Prime of
Cybertronia. He had been here for a while, and yet he never had the opportunity
to meet with Nominus Prime. He knew what he looked like, thanks to all the
paintings, but he never met him in person. Rodimus explained it was because he
was busy with important work, and other times it was because he could never
find him.
"The sad thing is, he knows where to find me," sighed the young Prime, his
angry expression changing to a bitter one.
Drift was confused once more. "What do you mean?"
Rodimus shook his head furiously. "N-nothing, it's... nothing."
The white swordsmech decided to drop it.
With only an orbital cycle and a half left till the tournament, Rodimus and
Drift did nothing but train and train. There were sols when they had to rest,
and sols where they worked their afts off, but the two carried on, eager for
the sol they would fight for real.
On that particular sol, Rodimus had grown weary of their spar, and decided that
he and Drift should take a break. "I feel like sleeping in one of the gardens,"
sighed Rodimus, yawning as he spoke. "The one a couple of courtyards away
should do nicely."
Drift did not argue, for he too wanted to rest. His joints were starting to get
stiff and the last thing he wanted was to enter a tournament with limbs he
could barely move. He nodded in agreement and followed the young Prime out of
the training grounds.
"That was a good session we had," said Drift with a smile. "I think we are
pretty much ready to enter the tournament with no major concerns."
Rodimus tried to hide his delight upon hearing this, but Drift could tell he
was overjoyed to hear such a thing. "Sentinel won't know what hit him," laughed
the young Prime. "The pompous fool still thinks he should go easy on me, but
when I'm done with him, he'll think twice before underestimating me."
"Sentinel is powerful," warned Drift, "and I'm certain Optimus is just as
strong. Just because they are your brothers, doesn't mean you should
underestimate them either."
The young Prime made said nothing, but made a gesture suggesting he
acknowledged what Drift had said. Drift was no fool either, for he was aware
that Rodimus and Sentinel did not get on well with each other. Although he
believed Sentinel Prime to be both beautiful and powerful, as a Prime should,
he had to admit that he wasn't a decent older brother, especially around
Rodimus. Whenever Sentinel was around Rodimus, he would mock him, tease him,
and on one occasion, he even shoved him out of the way. Drift thought it was
something that common around siblings, for he had seen such siblings do such
things back home, but the more he witnessed, the more he began to think that
Sentinel was just a not-so-good brother to the young Prime. Yes, he was what
Drift thought a Prime should look like, but his general attitude around Rodimus
wasn't appreciative. He kept telling himself that maybe Sentinel was just
trying to help his little brother build character, for deep down he still could
not believe that someone with the blood of Primus in their veins bore a foul
personality. Sentinel Prime was full of pride, and glowed with a godly aura, so
maybe he was just teasing Rodimus, nothing more. It wasn't as if he hurt
Rodimus, and even then, Drift couldn't picture him doing something so cruel to
his little brother.
Optimus, on the other hand, seemed to be the only one who treated Rodimus with
love and care. There were times when he told him off, but Drift could see it
was only out of concern. Optimus always came to check on Rodimus during
training, and even tried to convince him to drop out of the tournament for his
own safety. He was just so kind and sweet around his little brother, unlike
Sentinel. Maybe he and Sentinel worked together to bring out the best in their
little brother; Sentinel being the firm one, and Optimus being the gentle one.
A perfect, well balanced up bringing? That actually made a little sense, now
that Drift thought about it.
"Drift, what wish do you want granted?" Asked Rodimus suddenly, bringing the
white mech out of his thoughts.
"What do you mean?" He replied.
Rodimus rolled his optics at him. "The prize for winning the tournament is to
have whatever you desire granted by the ruling Prime," explained Rodimus,
reminding Drift what was at stake. "Some nobles enter just to have some silly
request come true, like having a street named after them, and knights who enter
wish to be made Lords, and own an estate."
The white mech recalled this, remembering it was the whole reason, apart from
duelling his older brother, that Rodimus wanted to enter in the first place. A
desire that the ruling Prime can grant, a wish that no one else could make
reality, truly a blessing that anyone would die for.
"But I thought it was you who would get the wish?" Queried Drift, believing
that as Rodimus' second, the rule wouldn't apply to him, even if Rodimus won.
Rodimus merely grinned at him. "You get a wish granted too, silly," he laughed.
"It wouldn't be fair if only I get what I want, wouldn't it?" He stepped a
little closer, almost invading Drift's personal space. "So, what do you want?
Your own little island? A star named after you? A whole harem to yourself?"
Drift blushed furiously after that last one. "N-no! Of course not," he snapped.
The young Prime just laughed. "Sorry, couldn't resist, but I do know a knight
who entered just for that reason." Once the humour had subsided, Rodimus asked
his question again, "So what would you like?"
Nothing really came to Drift's mind, for he was fairly content with his life,
happy with everything he already had. He didn't desire to own an estate, nor to
have anything named after him. There was nothing he really desired, or he just
couldn't think of one. It was a sudden question, and he had no time to think
about it.
Rodimus seemed to have picked up on this, and frowned. "Drift, if we're going
to enter to win, then you need a goal."
Drift appeared confused. "But our goal is to win. Surely that alone will-"
"No, no, no, that's OUR goal," asserted Rodimus, grabbing Drift's shoulders as
he spoke, "You alone need a personal goal, like me."
"A personal goal?" Repeated Drift.
Rodimus nodded. "Look, it's alright that you want to win, but you need to have
a reason to win. Want alone isn't going to help fuel your compassion and desire
to win the battle, you need to set your optics on something you crave more than
life itself, something you would die for, something you want more than life
itself. If you enter the tournament without such a need, then you're gonna fail
before you even stepped in the arena." The young Prime stepped back, placing
his hands on his hips as he continued to preach. "If what you desire most is
just a few sword fights away, you'll fight as if the fate of the world depended
on it. You tell yourself that, you won't lose, you won't fail, because if you
do, then that once in a lifetime chance is gone forever! If you want to win
this tournament, if you want what you have desired the longest, then you have
to focus on the goal."
The small courtyard was unusually quiet after such a long and loud speech from
the young Prime. Rodimus just stood there as still as a statue, almost as if he
were awaiting a response.
Drift just stared at him with a bewildered expression plastered on his pale
face. "That... that was unexpected," he stammered.
Rodimus flushed a bright red, and stamped a single foot upon the ground. "What
do you mean unexpected?" he snapped, "I just told you what you needed to do in
order to win." The white mech said nothing, but smiled in a way that would
cause another's spark to explode in utter delight. Rodimus flushed an even
brighter red, before turning away from Drift and mumbled, "l-let's just get to
that garden." Drift said nothing, but nodded in agreement, following the young
Prime to the garden.
After entering yet another courtyard, a loud and all too familiar voice caught
their attention. The pair looked up, and much to Drift's dismay, they spotted
Ultra Magnus standing within a doorway, looking as grim as ever. Rodimus
groaned aloud, not caring that it earned him a scowl from the rude mech.
"Rodimus Prime, there is something we need to discuss," he declared before the
young Prime, and he shot Drift a nasty glare before spitting out the words, "in
private."
Drift just glared back, whilst Rodimus sighed with a nod. "As long as it won't
take too long," he grumbled. The young Prime glanced over at Drift, his face
bearing a sorry expression. "Meet me in the garden," he requested, "it's just
through that archway, past the first garden, through a corridor, take a left,
and then you're there."
The white mech had quickly learned that this whole section of the palace was
just a maze of gardens and courtyards, but thankfully he had also quickly
learned how to navigate through them, so the young Prime's directions made
sense to him. Bidding Rodimus farewell, he skipped off, wanting to get as far
away from Ultra Magnus as he could. There was something about his mood that was
making Drift feel ill.
He walked through the archway, leaving the two mechs far behind, and had
entered the first garden. As he looked around for the corridor out of this
garden, it was then that he noticed that something felt familiar. He gazed
around as his mind brought to his attention that he had been here before, yet
it felt different at the same time. The blue crystal roses sparkled in the
light of the sol, and the stone steps decorated the floor glowed with an aura
of cleanliness. It wasn't a big garden, compared to all the others, but he was
certain he had seen it before. Where though? Was it possible he walked through
it before and never paid attention until now? He had been here for so long, it
might have been possible that he did walk through here without realising it,
but was he now only realising it? He gazed upwards, and spotted a walkway atop
the garden walls, leading from one part of the palace to the other. He
recognised that walkway, but from where?
It then hit him, like a sharp slap to the face. A chill ran through him as he
looked around the garden again. The beauty of the garden could not hide it's
terrible past, and now Drift could the dread and the terror that continued to
linger within the flowers and trees. This was the garden where Optimus Prime
had his accident.
He remembered the tale Rodimus told him of how Optimus, in his youth, was
standing atop the walkway, watching his father hosting a quaint garden party,
when a servant pushed him. The gentle Prime, barely past his first vorn, fell
through the air, and landed on the cold slabs of the garden below. Rodimus did
not witness it for he had yet to be born, but did know that it was the most
terrifying thing anyone could have ever seen. His older brother's small body
laid sprawled upon the lawn, a pool of energon blood growing beneath him. It
was first assumed that he had died instantly, but thankfully he had been saved
thanks the the healers that were on hand. Nominus Prime had the servant
executed right there, and upon learning that the servant hailed from Kaon, he
enforced even harsher laws upon the dark land.
Drift shuddered, wrapping his cloak around his body. He could almost picture
the horrible scene, as if he had been standing there when it happened. He could
almost smell the bitter stench of the energon blood, soaking the floor. He
could even imagine how many screamed that sol, upon witnessing the innocent
form crumpled on the floor. What kind of monster would push a child, let alone
a Prime, from such a height? Revenge? Hatred for the Primes? A twisted desire?
Why?
He was about to leave this cold place, when he detected the sound of whistling.
He looked around until he spotted movement beyond a garnet rose bush. Walking
round, he was relieved to see it was just some old gardener, whistling an old
tune as he tore up the weeds from the mulch. The gardener peered up at him, not
showing any interest at all.
Drift politely bowed, with a nervous smile. "You keep this garden well,
friend," he declared.
The gardener just grunted, and continued with his work. "Someone has to," he
grumbled, yanking at the weeds as he spoke, "only I tend to this garden."
"I can imagine why," responded Drift, still feeling the cold air about him.
"After what happened here, I doubt anyone would want to tend to this garden."
The gardener then looked up, a curious and a mocking look now spread across his
face. "Oh, so what did they tell you?"
Drift felt confused by these words. "What do you mean?" He asked, shuffling
where he stood. "Is this not the garden where Optimus Prime was almost murdered
as a child?" His query was met with a cold laugh. The white mech frowned, not
approving of the gardener's attitude towards a tragic event. "It's no laughing
matter that a Prime was nearly murdered," he spat.
"He jumped."
The air suddenly grew silent and heavy, after those two words left the lips of
the old gardener. Drift stared at him as he tried to process what he had just
heard. The gardener just stared at him, a cruel smirk now staining his old
face.
"W-what do you mean?" Demanded Drift, his spark now pulsing quite fast. "They
told he was pushed."
"They told you wrong," replied the gardener, "I was there, and I know what I
saw." He turned his back to tend to the weeds, but continued his dark story.
"They were all having a grand party that sol, music and dancing and all the
treats you can imagine. I was just adding the final touches to a quartz tulip
shrub, when I noticed young Optimus, standing right up there." He pointed to
the walkway overhead. "Optimus was so fair and innocent in his youth. You felt
like you should get executed just by admiring his beauty. He was too young, far
too young to have those empty optics he always wore."
Drift felt the tense air about him, the dark atmosphere nearly crushing him,
and the sense of dread that continued to grow within him. "He couldn't have
jumped," he weakly protested.
The gardener sneered at him. "If you had seen him that sol, you would have
believed he wanted to take his own life. I saw the dead look in his optics, the
lost expression he bore upon his fair face, and I could almost smell the bitter
detest of life from all the way down here." The old gardener sighed as he tore
up more weeds. "The servant tried to grab him, but he leapt before he could
reach him. Now he carries the guilt of having an innocent life slaughtered by
his own need to end his own life."
The cold words echoed in Drift's mind. His small frame became heavy and his
head was feeling light. Time seemed to have slowed down and nothing seemed to
make sense anymore. The very idea that Optimus, the gentle and pure Prime,
would want to take his own life at such a young age? The gardener had to be
lying, he must have made up such a tale to scare him. There was no way that
Optimus would do such a thing... but why didn't it sound like a lie? Unable to
stand there any longer Drift fled from that cold garden, never wanting to sit
foot in there again.
***** Chapter Ten *****
Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale
Chapter Ten
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - mentions of past suicide attempt
--------
Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years
--------
Sitting within the courtyard during the warm sol, Drift found he could not
concentrate with his training. So far all he had accomplished was spinning his
blades between his dark fingers and staring off into space, counting the number
of tiles there were on a nearby wall and other pointless things. The tournament
was only a few sols away and the palace became a wars one of organised chaos
for everyone began to prepare for it. Servants polished everything in sight,
Knights sharpened their blades, Lords were already arriving by the hundreds,
and everyone else did what was needed for the exclusive event. The participates
were either training or resting up before the whole kicked off, and Rodimus was
getting anxious as the sol dragged on and he wasn't impressed with Drift's
change of attitude.
"You aren't going to help me win by sitting there doing nothing," snapped the
young Prime, pacing the worn floor before Drift. "And you haven't even found
the one thing you have to fight for! I told you, if we're going to win we both
need a goal that we would kill for."
Drift winced and felt bad that he was causing Rodimus so much stress. "Sorry, a
lot has been on my mind," Drift said apologetically.
That didn't help calm the situation however. "So get your mind back into it! I
will not lose this tournament so if you can't play your role then I... I..."
Rodimus frowned as he tried to think of something to shock his friend but
nothing came to mind.
The swordsmech bit his lip and looked away. What should he say? Lie and pretend
that he wasn't feeling well or reveal that he discovered that Optimus attempted
suicide at a young age? He wanted to believe that the gardener was just teasing
him because he was a foreigner, but deep down in his gut he believed this story
to be true. He wasn't certain as to why but after what he had seen with Optimus
before and the strange tales Rodimus had told him he was certain that the
gardener had told him the truth.
Why? What could have caused Optimus to take his own life at such a young age?
What reason did he have to take such a rash action? Did he just enter a
depressed phase of his life, or was he pushed into a corner? Who hurt him? Who
caused him so much suffering that he believed that ending his life was the
answer? So many questions and not an answer in sight. He knew that the Palace
of Primes would contain secrets but none such so dark.
"Drift!"
The swordsmech jumped from where he sat and he stared directly at an angry
Rodimus. He tried to force a somewhat cocky smile but that didn't work.
"Please Drift, I need you to focus," begged Rodimus, his optics almost on the
verge of tears.
Knowing it was not his place to think of such things Drift mentally slapped
himself back to reality. The whole reason he was here was to keep Rodimus happy
and right now he was doing a poor job of it.
"Sorry Rodimus," muttered Drift, feeling bad for upsetting him.
Rodimus smiled and waved it off. "It's ok," he replied, "I just think we need
to find you a goal."
Ah yes, a goal Drift needed to win the tournament. Those who won the tournament
would be granted a boon from the ruling Prime and it could be anything he
wanted, but Drift had no need of fancy prizes or miraculous wishes. Rodimus had
been thinking for him and had come up with many ideas but none of them appealed
to Drift. None of them got him excited or caught his interest. Drift did try
but Rodimus could tell when his suggestions were failures in the White mech's
optics.
"I'm sorry Rodimus," sighed Drift, "but there isn't really anything I want."
Rodimus pouted. "Everyone wants something in life, they just need to figure it
out," argued the young Prime, pacing once more. "There has to be something
Drift, something you want above all else?"
Drift couldn't really think of anything, he was trying but his life was content
enough. Rodimus wasn't letting up however and it was starting to get on his
nerves."Can we just stop this please?" he snapped, folding his arms in a huff.
"By Prima's Blade Rodimus, I don't know what-"
"That's it!" shrieked Rodimus, jumping up without warning.
Before Drift could even ask Rodimus grabbed his hand and pulled him away,
dragging him through the palace. Drift stumbled behind him, not sure where they
were going. They passed by Knights and loitering nobles, all of them staring at
the pair as the ran through the hallways and corridors of the palace.
Eventually they stopped before a grand golden door with an Old Knight of
Cybertronia etched onto it, Drift almost forgot to bow before it, and it
guarded by two gigantic Prime Guard Knights who stood so still that Drift
almost mistook them for statues. They did bow their heads before Rodimus before
returning to their posts.
"Where are we?" asked Drift, feeling a little intimidated by the silent guards.
Rodimus merely grinned at him and patted the door with his hand. "Take a guess
what's behind this door?" he asked in a teasing way. "Go on, guess!"
Drift looked back at the golden door. It was guarded by two Prime Guard Knights
and the door actually had complicated locks which he had no clue how to
operate. Whatever was behind this door was clearly something that was very
important and very valuable, something he believed that he wasn't allowed to
see. What it was, he had no clue. "A... special treasure of some sort?" he
guessed, shrugging as he answered.
The young Prime rolled his optics. "Primus you have no imagination," he
grumbled. He put and arm around Drift and spoke gently into his audio. "What's
behind this door is he actual Blade of Prima."
Drift felt his spark implode. His optics widened and he looked at Rodimus with
bewildered expression. "The... THE Blade of Prima?"
Rodimus grinned as he nodded. "I've only see it once but Optimus told me
himself that Prima wielded that blade against Unicron himself. It's got even
more guards inside and its encased in a crystal case forged by Solus Prime."
Drift's optics lit up in wonder as Rodimus continues to talk. The Blade of
Prima was considered to be the holiest of all relics to the Circle. He
remembered the elders speaking of going on Pilgrimages to see the blade but
they never cruelly told he young ones where it was. Only those who were worthy
were allowed to know its location. It made sense that it was right here in the
Palace of Primes.
Created from the flesh, blood and the spark of Primus and forged in the White
Star of Beginnings, where it was believed Primus come into being, the Blade of
Prima was a weapon unlike any other. In fact it was insulting to think of it as
a mere weapon. They say it was so beautiful that it would bewitch its enemies,
making the drop their weapons in awe and would thank Primus that they were
given the honer to be slain by such a holy blade. It was so powerful it could
tear the moons in two, rip the ground asunder and destroy a nation with one
swing. Only a Prime could harness its power and a Prime could only use it to
defend the people of Cybertronia, never to use it to wage war. Drift could only
dream of gazing upon it.
"You can hold it you know," whispered Rodimus. Drift felt his legs wobble upon
hearing this. He hoped Rodimus was joking, he seriously hoped he was joking.
Drift's spark was pulsing so fast it was on the verge of exploding. "I'm
serious," continued Rodimus, "Optimus says that whenever Masters of the Circle
visit, my Sire allows them to hold it. A ceremonial thing or whatever, but I'm
certain that he'll let you hold it if we win the tournament."
Drift was at loss for words. "Would he really let me?" he asked, still trying
to picture the holy blade beyond this golden door.
"Yes, I'm certain," proclaimed Rodimus. "I mean there was once a guy who won
the tournament and asked if he could just touch Solus Prime's Hammer. He was a
weapon-smith who believed that the Hammer would bless him or something. He got
to touch it and now he's a world famous weapon-smith."
Drift felt a strange urge within him, a desire that almost took control. He
stared down at his hands and envisioned the clasping the hilt of that sacred
sword, its power and beauty in his hands. The idea to hold the very blade Prima
wielded against the unholy beast of Unicron was something that only the worthy
could dream of. How wonderful it would feel, how glorious it would be to hold
the blade for only a few moments. The pride he would feel, the honer that would
overwhelm him, it was almost too much for him to handle.
Rodimus could only smirk at Drift's dream smitten face. "What do you think?" he
probed, "You and me win the tournament and we both get what we want. I get my
wish granted and you get to hold the Blade of Prima in your own hands." It was
most appealing and Drift was still speechless for he could only fantasise about
holding the blade. Rodimus bopped him on the head to bring him back to reality.
"You like it right?"
Still unable to speak Drift could only nod, smiling in a childish way that made
Rodimus snort with laughter. Drift's mind was now set and determination filled
his optics. If all he had to do was make certain they would win this tournament
to win the chance to hold the Blade of Prima then he was going to put his all
into it. He was going to help Rodimus win this thing even if it killed them.
All of his worries and past concerns were now replaced with the hope and desire
to grasp that blade in his hands.
The young Prime seemed pleased that he found something to give Drift the drive
he needed to win this tournament. "So we're going to win this thing, right?"
"Right!" replied Drift, now able to speak again and a warm smile now filling
his face.
Rodimus smiled back and they walked away to practise some more. As they walked
a thought came to Drift. "Rodimus, what is your wish? What are you fighting
for?"
"It's a secret," replied the young Prime with a teasing smile.
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