Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. (I guess MistressMegatron owns the idea...)
AN: This story is kind of like MistressMegatron's, where it can be about anyone. Simply change descriptions and names and there you have it. Now, I didn't intend for this to be that way. I wrote this based on a roleplay I'm doing. I swear.
I hope you enjoy!
The Heart
The only light in the room came from a tiny portal in the ceiling. Dust particles could be seen floating thickly through the light that shown down on the heart. Dim yellow optics gaze down at the clear glass sculpture sitting in the center of a small round table. The owner of the optics sighs softly as she closes her optics shutters, hiding unwanted tears of pain.
The glass heart had been broken at one point in time. Over time, hundreds of years in fact, she had picked up the pieces, as many as she could find, and carefully put her little heart back together. It was not perfect and she knew it. Though she did not care anymore. She hoped to find the one that would heal her broken heart completely...
Behind closed eyes, silent images play. A mech. Her past leader. She talks to him. He shakes his head. Another femme comes into view. She clutches her heart close as the mech goes to embrace the other. Her hands release the heart. It falls. It hits the unforgiving floor. It shatters. Her glowing tears splash against the shards...
The sound of crackling causes our femme to open her shutters and stare in horror at her meagerly bandaged heart. Upon the surface of her heart, a clouded image is seen. Her current leader. Her true leader. His icy blue optics. His pale face. His sadistic smile. Yet it is not her face he sees. He is looking over her, as her first leader once did, and reaches to caress another femme.
Our femme gasps back a painful sob. Fresh breaks are slicing through the glass. Crackle. Crackle. Creeeeek.
Suddenly, her wounded heart seems to smash to pieces right where it sat motionless. She cries out. The pieces scatter about the little table and fall to the floor. She sinks to her knees, unbidden tears stinging her sight. The shards shimmer in the dusty light like her tears of sorrow.
She does not even try to mend her broken heart this time. What was the use? It would only be broken again. All she ever, truly wanted was to serve her leader to the fullest and always remain by his side. Yet, both had pushed her aside and chosen another.
Her cries of rejection echo in the dark room. Her tears flow freely from her face like rain. She cries out to her idol, "Have I not been loyal to you? Have I not given you my all? What must I do to please you? Show me the key to your spark, that I may take it as you have taken mine..."
She says no more and silence rains. She bows over her knees, her arms wrapped around herself, her optics shut tight. Her body trembles with sobs.
Finally, she feels another presence in the room. She dares glance up and her optics lock with those of her leader. Air catches in her vents as the icy blue orbs look down upon her with sincere regret. He sees now what he has done...
They gaze at one another for a moment more before walks forward with the quietness of a cat. He kneels and gently touches a jagged piece to her little heart. "I have been blind to you..." he breaths. "I was wrong in my choosing."
She continues to stare at him, her face moist and stained with tears. "Sir?" she questions hoarsely, clutching her hands to her chest, over her pulsing, lonely spark. What did her leader mean?
He looks up at her, his expression distant. He says nothing and bestows it upon himself to gather the pieces of her broken heart. She moves to protest but no words pass her lips. She stays where she is and quietly watches her leader. Gradually, he picks up every piece of her heart.
Shards in hand, he rises to his feet and moves toward the table. He carefully lays them on the surface. She stands. She watches, her spark filling with anxiousness. What was her leader doing?
Piece by piece, splinter by splinter, her little heart takes shape again. Then, to her surprise, he takes his own glass heart and takes it apart. He sets some pieces aside and uses the rest to complete her heart... their heart...
"S-sir?" Her voice squeaks and she covers her mouth. He glances up from his work and smirks knowingly at her. Her spark races with unmatched anticipation.
At last, the heart is complete. There were no imperfections any longer. The glass was now seamless and sparkled in the dust ridden light. Her mouth opens in astonishment and her gaze flutters from his warm, pale face to the newly repaired heart. "Galvatron?" she spoke his name as softly as a summer evening's breeze.
He nods to her slightly, icy orbs never breaking from hers. Then, slowly, he leaves the table and, one step at a time, comes nearer to her. She cowers before him, fearful of his power. He could simply toss her aside if he so chose to. "Galvatron..." she says again, just as softly as before.
Galvatron smiles gently down at her, his optics twinkling. "You needn't cower from me, Deltasurge." he reassures our femme and takes her quivering shoulders. "You... You are my most loyal and cunning servant. I ask now that you rule with me, as my bond mate."
Deltasurge was stunned into silence. "My- my lord," she stutters and bows her head. "I... I am unworthy-"
"No, my dear." He lifts her chin to look her full in the face. "You have more than prooven yourself worthy to me..." He then looks away regretfully. "If only I had seen it sooner."
She continued to stare at him. Did he really want her to become his mate? Was he simply fooling her into one of his traps? He often did this to all of his troops to teach them a lesson he thought they needed to learn. Was he trying to teach her something?
He chuckled softly. "Don't make me order you to bond with me," he teased.
She smiled at his humor. "Thank you, sir."
He waved it off and put and arm around her. She leaned against him longingly, soaking in his warmth. He led her out of the room, leaving the small table with the glass heart sculpture... a symbol of their devotion to one another.
What happened to the pieces Galvatron left out of their heart? Well, those were left from the femme he thought he loved. Eventually, those pieces turned into dust and mingled with the other particles in the air of that room. They would always haunt this room until the end of time...
AN: Okay, some of you that are reading my other story "Lost Soldiers" are probably saying, "What the heck? I thought Deltasurge liked Scorponok." She does in that story. But in the roleplay I'm doing, she is a different character. I do that a lot...
Please don't call me a copy cat!