Grace and Poise

Chapter One

Exhaustion

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Language Warning and some mild adult situations for this chapter. The rating may change in the future, depending on the situations.

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There were times when Optimus Prime wasn't sure of himself. Sometimes it happened when he was planning alliances. Other times, it was when his advisors were divided. Most often, it occurred when he was looking at Elita One. He was uncertain…

Was she truly meant to walk in this realm? Or did she truly belong with Primus?

There were times when she would walk so gracefully, helm held high, that he was almost certain she belonged in another world. It almost seemed as though she was followed by a light. Her paint was always shiny and glossy, even when he knew it should be dull and dirty.

He was certain that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Optimus sat back on his throne, focusing all of his attention on his new Lady. It seemed as though he had not seen her in vorns. The war had been won naught but a few decacycles earlier and he and his newly established high council had been hard at work attempting to establish a new Cybertron.

Cybertron was not the beautiful planet it has once been, but Optimus was sure that with Elita's presence once again gracing its surface, Cybertron would once again flourish. And Elita had indeed flourished, as well. Although it had been a very short time since they had retired from the battle field, Elita had taken to her new position with grace and poise.

The Lady of Cybertron was a force unto herself. Throughout history, the Ladies of Cybertron had been as influential as their mates, if not more so. Elita one would prove to be no different. Although they were coming out of a dark time, Lady Elita and Lord Optimus would guide their planet through the darkness and greet the light. Reconciliation is a painful process, one that should never been taken lightly.

And so it came to be that Optimus Prime and Lady Elita came to reestablish their home planet.

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The twin moons shone in the sky, illuminating the Lady of Cybertron as she rested her folded arms against the stone wall of the balcony. Her posture was anything but ethereal or Lady like. All of her weight was resting on her arms, hips far behind her body, back arched downwards. Her helm hung limply between her arms, optics offline. If not for the steady noises of her vents and the balance required to maintain such a position, one might think the Lady was permanently offline.

"Lady Elita?" A soft voice called from behind her, the question resonating throughout the stone rooms. Elita onlined her optics and stood upright. As she turned to acknowledge the speaker, Elita couldn't help the sigh that escaped her vents.

"I'm right here, Beta. Look no further." Elita wandered into the berthroom she shared with Optimus, skimming her fingers along the cold walls as she walked. The palace was built of rare stone, cold and exceedingly beautiful. All of the past rulers of Cybertron had graced its halls. All of their sparklings had been sparked within its chambers. And yet, Elita felt as though she was an intruder. To most, this building was sacred. To her, it was suffocating.

"Lady Elita," Beta bowed, her beautiful dark green helm flashing under the lights of her berthroom. "I'm so glad I found you! Lord Prime has been inquiring after you. He asked if you might join him for some evening energon before you both must go to the ball." Beta bowed again, already flourishing in her lady-in-waiting position. Elita smiled, taking in the picturesque young femme that stood before her.

"I am sure that Lord Prime will be most pleased that you have found me," Elita walked into the antechamber, picking up the bracelet she had tossed aside that morning. The Prime would be unhappy if she went to a ball without it on. Optimus had given it her before they had bonded, as a symbol of their union. A smile touched her faceplates, memories of their first few orns together warmed her spark.

Despite their nearly forced bonding, things really had turned out for the best. There were still rough orns, like this one, but for the most part, life was good. After all, she was the Lady of Cybertron. There was no higher place in society for a femme than on the arm of the Prime.

"Come along, Beta. We musn't make the Prime wait for us. I am quite certain that he will not enjoy this party. Let's not sour his mood further." Beta nearly smiled, having spent many hours plastered against the wall at the royal parties. She knew exactly what her Lord and Lady went through every time one the horrible parties was thrown.

The two femmes exited the royal chambers and made their way down the halls. Like the berthroom, they were all somewhat gilded and cold. Every ounce of the palace screamed credits…superfluous amounts of credits. The molding on the baseboards was a beautiful and fiery red, just like the symbol on her mate's chestplates. The walls were black marble, shot through with silver veins.

Finally the long hallways wound their way to a set of magnificent doors. Two mechs stood sentry outside the room, their staffs at their sides. With a nod of her helm, the mechs stepped aside and allowed Beta and herself to pass. The doors swung open slowly, as though heralding a god.

And a god he was. On the far side of the room Optimus Prime sat on his throne. The throne itself was a work of art, made by Sunstreaker himself. However, the throne paled in comparison with the mech seated on it. He was truly magnificent.

The height that, at one time, had frightened her, now made him seem more ethereal. His helm was regal and tall, perfectly proportioned. His optics, though… They had enthralled her since she had first met him. While his faceplate was on, he seemed like some untouchable beastly mech. But one look in his optics has assuaged her fears. They were blue as the buildings in Crystal City, deep and dark. They were beautiful and so warm. Sometimes when the palace started seeming a little too cold, she would simply think about his optics and she no longer felt chilled.

His chestplates were broad and expansive, flaring out into the most powerful and mechly shoulders she had ever seen. His waist was strong and well supported by his powerful legs. All in all, the mech was a god. Primus himself had touched his spark, and it seemed that Primus wanted the outside to mirror the inside. Elita knew that the Prime's spark was mighty and generous, mechly and warm.

Their bonding may have been far out of her control, but it was working out so much better than she could have imagined. When she had first been told that Optimus Prime had set his sights on her as a mate, she had laughed, thinking that Ironhide joking with her. When his faceplate was unmoving and serious, Elita felt panic in her spark.

But there was none of that panic as she strode towards her new mate. His large hand extended towards her, fingers broad and welcoming. Her rosy fingers grasped his own, allowing herself to be tugged towards the throne. She laughed lightly when he pulled her down onto his lap. Out of the corner of her optic, she saw Beta smile.

"My Prime," Elita settled herself in his lap, threading her fingers through his own, "What brought this about?"

"Is it so wrong to want to be near to my new mate?" He asked, looking down at her with affection glowing in his optics. His side of the bond flared to life, sending her warmth and affection. But no love. Yet. It would come. At least, she hoped it would come.

She sent him affection, but hid the extent of her worry and exhaustion. Being a Lady of Cybertron is one of the most stressful and awful processes her life. She was expected to be the most perfect femme on the planet. Only the best could be seen with the most perfect mech on the planet. They were supposed to be themselves around each other, because it was the only time they were allowed to be normal, flawed beings.

They were sparkmates, though. He knew she was tired and she knew that he was also. Optimus was more tired than she was, but there was no respite for them this night. Parties with the Prime were large, extravagant dealings that lasted for what seemed like days. Luckily, the Prime and the Lady had been bonded for a short enough time that they had only had to throw a few balls.

However, they were terrible. Elita had never once had fun at the ball. Usually she was being asked how it felt to bonded to the single most powerful mech in the world. Or, she was being asked how large his rod was, or how good he was in the berth. She had learned quickly that there was no difference between upper class and lower class femmes, except the amount of credits they had to spend.

Worse, she had act as though she wanted to be around these femmes and mechs. They didn't see her. They saw her mate. She was merely a footnote in Optimus's life. At least she knew that he would never see her as a footnote. His level of devotion had made her feel a little unsure of herself. But Optimus had chosen her for a reason.

Elita snuggled down into his armor, breathing in his scent. He always smelled so good, like wax and polish. How he kept so clean was a mystery to her. Elita could barely keep herself polished and waxed and she had Beta to keep track of these things for her. Although, now that she thought about it, there were many times that Optimus was in the shower when she was sleeping.

"You smell so good," Elita murmured against his armor, "Why are you always so clean?" Optimus chuckled deeply, tightening his arms around her, his broad fingers stroking a seam in her side.

"I have a femme now. It's important for me to always make myself alluring to her," His fingers slowed in the seam, teasing her. Elita's breath caught in her vents, heat rising in her frame. Optimus was very attractive and he was a very good lover. He was her first, so she had little to compare him to, but it was fine. She knew he was the best. And it seemed that he knew it too.

"I don't think you'll ever a problem with being un-alluring, my Prime. Even when I watched you on the battlefield, you were so sexy," Elita felt embarrassment flood her systems. They rarely spoke of their time together as soldiers. After all, Elita had been a sub-commander and they had barely even spoken. They had different social circles and only met at large meetings. But Elita had always looked to the Prime with lustful optics, just like all the other femmes and some of the mechs.

"Even covered in mech blood and covered in organic muck, I wanted to jump you, love you and treasure you." Elita said, her voice quiet and somewhat reflective. "When you became Prime of all Cybertron and you decided to choose me for your Lady, my spark stopped. I was so excited and nervous." Elita's voice caught, her fingers grabbing onto his armor, scuffing the finish ever so slightly.

"Lita. I knew that I wanted you from the moment I saw you. You were beautiful and so very nice. When the council asked me to name a sparkmate, I was flabbergasted. I had no ties with anyone, none the less a femme. As I walked back to my empty, cold room, I could only think of you. The berth was so cold and large. I immediately thought of you and your fiery nature. I knew that you were resilient enough to be my mate. You are passionate and beautiful, but tough and sensitive at the same time. I'm sorry for this, Elita. I didn't want this to happen this way." His optics were dimmed, all the guilt on Cybertron written on his faceplates.

Elita raised her hand and cupped his faceplate gently. "No matter how it happened, I think we'll get through this just fine. It'll get easier as time goes on. I'm sorry that you were forced to bond with me. But it's done."

Optimus's helm snapped up, fierce pride in his optics. "I'm not sorry. I could never regret this, Elita. I have known your spark, all that you are. And I know I made the right decision in the end, no matter the circumstances. I look forward to knowing you better, making this enjoyable. I know I'm already enjoying it," His fingers slid down the seam in her side once more, "But I know that it's different for femmes. I want this relationship to be open and honest."

The heat was rising in Elita's systems. The physical attraction was there, alright. There was the start of an emotional relationship, too. There was no denying the pull of their sparks and the intimate knowledge of who the other person was. She'd seen into his spark and knew that he was desperate for her to love him. But love isn't rushed. It had to be cultivated.

"I think I can love you, Optimus Prime."

"And I think I can love you, my Lady."

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Well, here I go again. This came to me while watching a mixture of Game of Thrones and other period pieces. Please review if you'd like to see more. This is only a taste, trying out the waters. If there's a good response, I'm going to explore their past and the circumstances of their bonding and their future together. I'm open to suggestions and situations you all would like to see. I think this could be really fun. Please review if you'd like to see more.