I'm giving this fic a chance. It's been a bunny in the brain for a while. It's AU, pre-war Megatron. I'm going with the mine-worker-turned-tyrant bit. Also, I do not own Megatron, Nova or anyone else recognizable. I hope I kept Megatron in character. Give it a chance and review, so I can post faster and more later. This is just the intro. Shit will hit the fan shortly, if people like this fic enough. (And our main femme is not as she seems. See end AN after chapter.)
Megatron smirked at his reflection in the highly polished glass. He sat in a high-backed posh chair with a cube of the highest grade of energon in his hand. This was indeed 'the life.' If this was the how the aristocracy lived on a day-to-day basis, he might have to move up his next attack and receive more tributes. He leaned back in the chair, kicking his long legs out in front of him and waited for Windwing to speak.
The older mech was seated opposite of him, but seemed uncomfortable in his own domicile. Windwing's posture was tight, his back straight as a rod and he was perched on the edge of his seat. His own cube of energon was abandoned on the table between them. Windwing was also staring out of the highly polished glass, though his optics were unseeing. Megatron surveyed the other mech, deciding that the older mech was far too involved in his own thoughts to speak first.
"Councilmech," Megatron began, allowing his deep voice to reverberate around the silent room. "I believe that you did not call me here to treat me to a view of Kaon and high grade. Shall we discuss business?" Megatron leveled his blood red optics at the Council member, allowing his optics to do the rest of his speaking.
The other mech seemed to snap out of his daze, focusing his optics on Megatron's own. Red optics met blue optics and the world seemed to slow. Megatron realized how desperate the elder mech had become. Internally, Megatron was pleased. If Windwing had made the realization that no matter how wealthy he may be, his family was always at risk, then other members of the council will have come to the same conclusion. Megatron almost felt bad for Windwing. The once proud and illustrious mech had been reduced to the crumbling mech before his very optics.
"I am prepared to offer the Decepticon cause four million credits in turn for a guarantee that my family will remain safe and be forewarned of any attacks on or near this domicile." His optics turned icy, his posture relaxed. It appeared that the mech had reached inward and drawn on a reservoir of inner strength.
Megatron turned his attention back to the windows, breaking optic contact with the other. There was no reason to allow the councilor the satisfaction of knowing that he was pleased with Windwing's offer. He swirled his energon cube before taking a sip, still concentrating on his beloved city of Kaon. At that very moment, there were Decepticon insurgents all around the city, out recruiting for his cause. Those three million credits would be of great help to his cause.
"I would be willing to acquiesce to your terms, if you also pledge your allegiance within the court system to the Decepticon cause." Windwing was silent, optics staring blankly into his energon cube. The mech slouched down, setting his energon cube on the table between the two mechs. His elbows rested upon his knees and his helm fell into his waiting hands.
Megatron realized that for the first time in life, he was seeing a mech be defeated by worry over his own family. Megatron was no fool. Love was a powerful emotion and family was the most important thing to most mechs. Love strengthened Cybertronians under the best of circumstance, but love was so easily manipulated. Windwing was a stupid mech. Megatron would have never allowed another mech to threaten his family, especially not his femmes.
"I will. I swear it, my Lord. I will stand by your cause within the council and out of it, so long as you uphold your end of the bargain." Windwing cast Megatron a sharp look. Megatron chuckled darkly, liking the mech more and more as the breems flew by. There he was, sitting dejectedly with his helm in his hands, but still trying to appear menacing.
"I will protect your family and property, do not worry so, Windwing." Megatron let his tone be condescending, knowing the other mech had no choice but to accept his domination. Megatron realized that was the key difference between himself and Windwing. Their abilities to dominate other mechs were completely different. Windwing dominated the courts and was the alpha male within the safe confines of his precious high council. Megatron, however, was the alpha male of an entire an army. And was working towards dominating an entire species.
The semi-companionable silence they had been sitting in was disturbed by the sound of the domicile door opening and closing and the dulcet tones of femme voices came floating into the den. Windwing's helm snapped up, and his optics brightened marginally.
"My Lord," Windwing bowed, "I will return in a few moments. I need to welcome my femmes home." With another small bow, Windwing left his den in the capable hands of the soon-to-be warlord.
"My femmes!" Windwing announced as he walked into the living room.
"Windwing."
"Father."
Both of the femmes returned to him, respectfully and honorably. Seeing the respect and adoration in both pairs of optics made shame fill his entire frame. Hopefully Primus would take pity upon his spark and know that he only supporting a tyrant to protect these two beautiful femmes standing before him.
"'Wing? How was your day, Sweetspark?" His beautiful mate, Emberstar asked him from where she was busily unpacking her treasures, undoubtedly picked up after a long day at the market.
"It was fine. I met with some members of the high council and we discussed the upcoming war." At his words, Emberstar looked sharply towards their daughter and then flicked her optics towards her sparkmate. Windwing recognized the warning clearly. They had been bonded for almost a millennia, and while others had been bonded for much longer, they had enough experience with each other to know simple warnings.
"What upcoming war?" Onyxstar piped up from the corner of the room, where she was on her knees rearranging her collection of hand-made jewelry. Ember's optics bore into his own and he cringed, knowing his day had just transitioned from bad to worse in one fell swoop.
"It's nothing for beautiful young femmes to worry over," Windwing paused, processing his thoughts, "And that includes the both of you." He added quietly, pouring the rest of his energy into the authoritative statement.
"You can get away with whatever you like so long as you keep calling me young, old mech." Ember teased her mate quietly, crossing over to him and wrapping herself around his frame. He allowed their bond to open, pouring his shame and frustration to his mate, but following that with his intense love for both her and their daughter.
Ember's optics dimmed with worry but Windwing shook his head, indicating that they would speak later. Onyx got up gracefully from her spot on the floor and picked up her well-loved datapad and opened an open terminal, which was set into the wall. She immersed herself into her homework, beginning her work and staying quiet.
Windwing's gaze softened, knowing that he was doing all this work for her sake. He needed to protect his family and his young femme. With his mate wrapped in his arms and his young femme in his sight, he felt at ease for the first time that night. When Onyx turned on the music at her terminal, he knew she was no longer paying any attention to himself or his mate.
"There's one more thing, Ember." He hesitated, unsure of what her reaction was going to be. His mate could be unpredictable and formidable when angered. "I have had a meeting with Lord Megatron today and we were unable to finish before you two got home." Ember tensed in her grasp, but he plowed on. "He is waiting for me in my study. Please, Ember. Warm all of us some evening energon and he'll be gone before we know it. Don't worry about the costs. I've budgeted for them for a while now." He dropped a kiss to her helm and desperately stroked their bond with fondness and love.
Ember shook slightly in his arms. Emberstar had been ranting and raving about the Decepticons for joors, preaching about the tyranny and oppression. However, there was no doubt that the Decepticons and Megatron were going to come out of this war on top. They had three times the forces of the Autobots and the war had not officially started and they were still recruiting. Windwing had known that his decision was going to make his mate angry, but he was the head of the domicile and he had to do everything in his power to protect his femmes.
Without a word, she turned and stalked towards the energon dispenser in the middle of the room. Even though she was furious, he still could not help but admire her beauty. He was just as in love with her today as he had been when they had first bonded. Her red paint coloration was the color of her side of the bond, vibrant and passionate. He wanted to make love to her even now, with a tyrant in the next room over and his own daughter in the room. He simply wanted to scoop her up and take her to their berthroom and soothe her anger. But, there was no way that was going to happen.
He sighed and turned toward his den, checking to make sure that Onyx was still involved with her work. Her black visage could barely be seen; she was so engaged with her work that she had almost melted into her desk.
As Megatron sat in the darkness, waiting for Windwing to return, he was pondering. Pondering life and death. Mostly life. He was not a mech to dwell on death. It was an eventuality, he knew that he would one day join with Primus in the well of Allsparks to be judged and perhaps he would be sent on to Unicron.
It mattered not, he realized. For now, he poised to be the most influential mech Cybertron had ever seen. He could change the way Cybertron was run and how mechs and femmes worked. He could literally change life as they all knew it. The thought sent an electrical pulse up his spinal column.
For all of his life up to that point, Megatron had only questioned the status-quo, but had never openly rebelled against it. Now that he was rebelling, it was the most rewarding experience he had ever had.
Femmes were crawling all over him, offering their bodies for his pleasure and their minds for his propaganda work. His warriors were of varied backgrounds, but they were all invaluable. In the beginning of the Decepticon uprising, he had been disappointed by the lack of trained warriors in his ranks. However, as they got closer and closer to launching the first attack of Iacon, he was grateful for the skills his new warriors brought. He had actors and strategists and energon makers and refiners. He had femmes and mechs of all backgrounds and body types. He had fellow mine workers and he even had some elite members of society behind him.
He smiled, taking a sip of his energon. Life was good. All that was missing was a femme by his side. Every great ruler of Cybertron had an equally distinguished mate. Some of the most interesting literature he had read had come from Nova Prime's archives, which was centered around his mate. Although he never named his mate within the text, it was well known that Nova's mate was Sunsetter, a beautiful femme. Megatron had once seen a statue of her when he was in Iacon at the library complex.
Within the text, Nova had given a biography of his life and his strategies for warfare. However, it was the section on love that had baffled him. Nova Prime, one of the most vicious Primes Cybertron had ever seen, had accredited his strength to his mate. Megatron had never given any consideration to femmes or love. In the mines, femmes were few and far between. He had also seen love as a supreme weakness, something easily exploited. However, Nova Prime had been a very smart mech and had convinced him differently.
Nova asserted that femmes were valuable, not only for their ability to create life, but for their reasoning and deductive skills. Nova had affirmed that his mate had been one of his best advisors during war time, because she had valuable foresight. Not only had she been a strategic advisor, but she had also provided Nova with a soft place to lay his helm at night. Nova had stated that, 'There was no greater comfort after a stint on the battlefield than to lie in my lover's arms. To know that she was the center of all my life and that without her, I would be lost. Without that knowledge, I would have lacked the inner strength to conquer all that lay in my path.'
Ever since reading the near-poetry, every night's recharge had seemed a little lonelier than the night before. If what Nova had spoken of was true, then it seemed that he was in the market for the perfect femme. But, that would come when she was thrust upon him by a higher power. He was far too busy making history to have time to go out and femme catch.
"Lord Megatron." Windwing bowed as her came back into the room. "Thank you for allowing me time to see my femmes." Megatron nodded back to him, swirling the dregs of his energon. Luckily, he was a large a mech, and the high grade had barely even relaxed him, not even coming close to making him over energized.
Windwing sighed, dropping himself into his chair, scooping up his high grade on the way down. Without a sound, Windwing threw back his helm and downed the remainder of his energon.
"Rough time with your femme?" Megatron asked quietly, feeling oddly relaxed and knowing that there was nothing more Windwing would like than for him to leave. By keeping his aft firmly planted in his chair, he was once again asserting his dominance. (Albeit lazily.) Megatron allowed his helm to roll back, resting it on the back of the chair. He relaxed his body, knowing that Windwing didn't have the courage to try to kill him. After a breem or two, Megatron stretched again, abused joints popping and realigning noisily.
"I need to return to my troops. I have news of a powerful arrangement with a councilmech to present to them." Windwing nodded, getting to his feet as Megatron did the same.
"My mate has warmed our evening energon if you would like to partake. If not, please consider taking it with you." Megatron nodded, saying nothing as he followed Windwing out of the den and down a darkened hallway. They passed several berthrooms on their way to the main rooms of the domicile.
As they entered into the living area, Megatron was struck by two things. The first being that the room smelled like femmes. The second being how impeccably clean everything was. Both were not surprising, as femmes emitted chemicals that mechs could smell from a distance, and femmes were very clean beings. However, after several vorns of working in the mines and then living in makeshift barracks, both of these things were shocking.
Megatron inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent of two femmes. One was older and bonded, but the other was young and newly enabled. His optics flared wide, looking for the source of the scent. He located the femme, who was seated on the couch in the middle of the living room. She was black as the coal in the mines. But instead of looking sooty and dusty, she shone like the moons.
Her legs were tucked under herself and in her hands was a worn-out datapad. She was the most plain looking femme Megatron had ever seen. If it wouldn't have been for her scent, he probably wouldn't even have noticed her. She blended into the darkness of the couch perfectly. Her dark coloring made her lackluster and her helm was down, completely immersed in whatever she was doing.
Megatron never would looked at her twice, even when he was in the mines and was desperate for any femme to touch him in any way. However, as a hot energon cube was pressed violently into his hand by Windwing's feisty mate, he found himself moving towards her. He was aware that Windwing was speaking to him, but he couldn't have cared less. When Megatron focused on something, there was nothing to break his concentration.
Megatron approached the femme cautiously. She looked harmless, but there were enough femmes within the Decepticon ranks that he was not willing to take chances. Looks could be very deceiving, especially when it came to femmes. As he drew even with the couch, the femme still paid him no head. She just smelled sweeter and sweeter as he drew closer and closer. And she was more and more intriguing as she completely ignored his presence.
As his shadow fell over her, thanks to the artificial lighting, she finally looked up. Her deep blue optics were no different from her father's, except that they seemed to go deeper and deeper the longer he looked at them.
"Hello," Onyx began, but realized that the imposing mech hovering above her was not paying attention to her words at all. The look in his optics was one that she had seen on her mech creator many times when he was around her femme creator. His optics were wide as they would go and his olfactory sensors looked like they were on high alert. He was staring at her with an unknown emotion on his faceplates.
Onyx was no fool. She had been educated at some of the finest universities in Kaon. And they had not failed to teach her interfacing customs. She knew that all femmes emitted certain pheromones that were translated into lines of code once they landed on the olfactory sensors of the mechs that surrounded them. For every femme, there were no more than ten mechs that were a good enough match to cause them to pursue the femme, based on smell.
The mech in front of her was exhibiting classic signs of wanting to interface with her; a faraway expression on his faceplates, optics dilated and unresponsive to outside sounds. His optics were roving over faceplate and body, taking in all of her. It made her uncomfortable on a level that she was unfamiliar with. Being a femme from a prestigious house and of distinguished blood, she was watched closely when around mechs. Seeing as how she'd be expected to undergo an inspection before she was bonded, she was expected to remain pure until that day.
Therefore she had never been examined at length like this before. The mech in front of her was ruggedly handsome, larger than her father and much broader. His shoulders and torso narrowed into a mechly waist and a powerful lower body that would have made her blush had she not been becoming increasingly unsettled. She looked over to her mother and father, who were stock still in the middle of the domicile, looking as unsettled as she felt.
"Father?" She questioned quietly, letting her datapad slip from her fingers. Her father merely shook his head, pressing a finger to his mouthplates, asking her to be quiet. She shifted her attention back to the large mech looming in front of her. To her dismay, he had moved closer to her and was now easily within touching distance. Onyx tried to move from the couch, but was cut off with a growl and a large pair of legs blocking her path.
"Do not move, femme." The voice was deep, gravely sounding. It was the voice of a mech who was significantly older than herself. Underneath the gravel was a tone of authority that seemed to cling to him. Onyx froze, surveying the mech who was surveying her. He looked a little familiar, but her parental units forbade her from watching broadcasts, so if he was famous, there was no way she would have been able to identify him. After several breems of staring at her, the mech pulled back from her, shaking his helm gently.
"What is your name, little femme?"
"Onyxstar. Everybody calls me Onyx, sir." Her voice wavered a little bit, although she had always been told to be strong in the face of fear. But, this was the scariest face she had ever seen. He just looked menacing, plain and simple. The usually feisty femme was struck by a feminine instinct to be silent in the face of an Alpha male.
"Oynxstar. Onyx." The mech tilted his helm, studying her further. "How old are you, young one?"
"Too young for you." She gasped, realizing what had escaped her vocal processors. She heard her mother gasp as well and saw her father twitch, ready to jump in if she was threatened.
To everyone's immense surprise, the mech merely laughed. He pushed himself down and his fingers caressed her faceplate with surprising gentleness. Onyx was struck by the immense proportions of his hand against her face. He could easily crush her entire helm with one of those hands. Instead, they caressed her faceplate and gently slid down to caress her neckplating and collar armor. She purred, unable to stop the reaction. The mech above her smiled, and crouched so he was closer to her than ever before. Onyx was torn between being frightened and aroused. It was the oddest feeling she could have ever thought of experiencing.
"There are certain…perks…that come with age, my little Onyx." As he spoke, he used his body to block her parental unit's view of her, laying prostrate on the couch. With their newly found privacy, he slipped his fingers into crevices in her shell. Her purring sounded choked as she tried to keep herself from making any noise whatsoever. He smiled evilly, taking note of the places that made her squeak and the areas that made her purr.
"Lord Megatron!" Windwing had snapped out of his stupor, ready to defend his daughter's honor. "I must insist that you leave my daughter alone. She is pure, my Lord and shall remain that way until she is bonded." Windwing had drawn himself up proudly, but deflated as Megatron gently pet Onyx's helm and stood abruptly, crossing quickly to stand in front of Windwing.
"Worry not, Windwing. I intend to keep your daughter just as pure as you do. However, I will have exclusive rights to her courtship from this point forward. I will play by your rules until we are bonded. After that point, she will be mine to do with as I see fit. Do we have a deal?" Megatron asked, lowering his helm to be level with Windwing.
"Yes, Lord Megatron." Windwing said, defeated by the tyrant. Ember, however, was not done and started forward, to be pulled back by her mate. Megatron sneered down at the femme, unimpressed by her irrationality. He tossed a look at Onyx, who was in the exact same postion he had left her in. Her optics were slightly fuzzy and dimmed. Megatron smiled evilly, knowing that she was going to be the best interface partner his rod would ever meet.
"At least you did well raising her. She seems to have taken after you, Windwing. See to it that her education is continued. I will be by later in the cycle to take her on a proper date. See to it that the funds are transferred by midmonth or I will take what I want by force." He started for the door, calling over his shoulder to Windwing, "Oh, and Windwing…thank you for the unexpected gift." He let his gaze linger on the stupefied Onyx for a moment before exiting the domicile.
Alright. I promise that Onyx is not easily stupefied. She will give Megatron and her other suitors (NOT TELLING) hell. She's a feisty little femme and can pack a whallop. But, she was raised in a society where being obedient is of upmost importance. It'll take a few chapters to break her out of her shell. Hopefully you'll all stick with me long enough to see that happen. Please review. Tell me what you thought and who you think is going to be her other suitor. (I smell a love triangle…)