Newsflash: I'm not dead! Sorry for the long wait. You know how things go: you make big plans of dedicating some time to writing over the summer and without any warning Life comes along to shoot those plans to pieces. Hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for my temporary disappearance.
Chapter Twenty-Two : A New Age
"Here you are," the servant announced. "The Grand Audience Hall."
Just as Cloudbreaker had promised, he'd sent a servant to collect the Prime family and lead them to the reception hall at the appropriate time. Although Ironhide had initially chafed at the idea of having to be shown around like a sparkling, he was glad that they'd had a guide to help navigate them through the Vosian palace. The palace was bigger than what it looked like from outside, and even though Cloudbreaker had given him and Optimus a tour of it earlier that day Ironhide doubted he would have been able to find the audience hall by himself.
A giant set of gilded doors stood at the end of the hallway. Ironhide recognized them from Cloudbreaker's tour. The doors of the audience hall were thrown open against the sides of the hallway. A trine of conehead guards stood stiffly at attention on each side of them. Through the doorway Ironhide spotted several dozen bots laughing and talking together in small groups. All of them, from what Ironhide could tell from a distance, were Vosian dignitaries. Their muffled voices mingled with the soft notes of music that drifted out of the audience hall into the corridor. The music was different from anything Ironhide had ever heard before. It was ethereal and floating. The light notes and sweeping chords instantly conjured up images of flight.
"Dad!" Starfall whispered from between Ironhide and Optimus. "Look at all the seekers! There's even more of them than when we landed."
"Yes, there are," Optimus agreed. Ironhide could hear the smile in his sparkmate's voice. Starfall's excitement was amusing. Only a sparkling would be so eager to go to a formal reception. Over the vorns, Ironhide had come to quietly dread them.
"The Emirate has invited all the important seekers of the city to meet us," Optimus explained. "This is our formal welcome, so there are going to be a lot more bots here tonight than before."
"That means yeh gotta be on yer best behavior, Star," Ironhide chimed in. "We're gonna be meetin' a lot'a really important mechs that we wanna impress."
"I'll be good," Starfall smiled up at him. "Promise!"
Ironhide didn't doubt that. Starfall was always well-behaved. Almost everyone who met him was instantly charmed by him and his innocent manners. Ironhide just hoped the Emirate liked the reincarnated sparkling of her great-nephew as much as she seemed to in his previous incarnation. Slipstream struck him as an extremely difficult bot to please.
The silver-painted servant led the family to the end of the hallway. At the threshold, he stepped to the side of the corridor and sank into a low bow. His wings swept out behind him in an elegant arc. "Another servant will announce you to the Emirate and Lord Cloudbreaker when you enter," he said, still bent at the waist. "Is there anything else you require of me before I take my leave?"
"No. That will be all, thank you," Optimus said.
The servant bowed his head in acknowledgement, then wordlessly righted himself and departed back down the hall.
Optimus glanced at Ironhide. "Shall we?"
Ironhide shrugged, grunting noncommittedly.
As Optimus stepped forward to lead the family into the hall, Starfall sidled closer to Ironhide and slipped his hand into Ironhide's. Ironhide startled at the sudden contact and glanced down at their joined hands. Starfall stared up at him with a shy smile. Squeezing his son's hand possessively in his own, the old war mech returned Starfall's smile. Together, the two of them followed Optimus into the audience hall.
Just like the first time he'd seen it on Cloudbreaker's tour, Ironhide was overwhelmed by the size and elegance of the Grand Audience hall. Although the sun had set more than a joor ago, the hall was washed in warm, golden light. Scone-shaped lights lined the edges of the hall in addition to numerous chandeliers hanging suspended from the ceiling. Beyond the arched sides of the hall, the palace crystal gardens shined in the moonlight. The hall's ceiling – a gigantic glass dome suspended several hundred feet above the ground – deflected the light from below to showcase the nighttime sky above. Through the mosaic-laid glass, a sea of stars stretched overhead like tiny diamonds strewn across an ink-black canvas.
Ironhide estimated at least three hundred bots were already inside the hall. He could see none of their fellow Iaconians delegates among the crowd. Important looking Vosians surrounded them on all sides. Seekers stood together in trines and in larger groups, chatting and sipping on colorful energon drinks. Ironhide self-consciously squirmed underneath his plating. He and Optimus had detailed and polished themselves before they'd left for the reception, but Ironhide still felt under decorated compared to their hyper-fashion-conscious hosts. He'd never felt comfortable dressing up for fancy functions before he became the Prime's Consort and every less so after. During the war it had never bothered him if he had more scratches than paint on his body. The Vosians, however, seemed more concerned about appearances than Sunstreaker. The seekers were decorated in every imaginable way. Everyone present was polished to a gleaming shine. Helm caps laden with tinkling chimes and planetary rings of every imaginable precious metal decorated the wrists and thruster joints of the guests.
Ironhide mulishly flicked his hand that wasn't holding onto Starfall's. The thick bands of obsidian ore Optimus had helped squeeze down over his servos earlier in their room clattered against each other. Ironhide couldn't help but feel they were mocking him. He'd been hoping Cloudbreaker's offer to get him and Optimus their own sets of planetary rings would turn out to be just an empty diplomatic offer. But just as Cloudbreaker promised, several joors before the servant had come to show them the way to the audience hall a different servant had appeared carrying two small boxes containing their gifts from the royal household, fresh from the craftsmech. Upon receiving them, Optimus had decreed that not wearing them to the reception was out of the question despite all of Ironhide's efforts to make his sparkmate relent. He'd already polished and made himself as pretty as a senator. Did he really have to squeeze fancy bands of metal down onto his wrists too?
For diplomacy's sake, Optimus had tartly informed him, he did.
Despite his distaste for the bands of metal now rattling around his wrist joints, Ironhide was surprised to admit he rather liked the way Optimus looked in his. The bands of silver brought out the white of his sparkmate's paintjob and somehow made Optimus look even more regal than he usually did. Starfall hadn't needed any encouragement in adopting the local fashion. He had laden his arms with the planetary rings his new friends had given him so much so that he now jingled every time he moved. Ironhide suspected Starfall was going out of his way to swing his arms more than he usually did when he walked just so the metal bands would make more noise.
The family barely got two paces inside the hall before they were spotted.
"Lord Prime?" a silky voice called as a bright blue and silver seeker with dark red optics slid up to them. "Greetings."
"Greetings," Optimus replied. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"
"My name is Windsurfer, sir. Perhaps you remember me from Lord Cloudbreaker's visit to Iacon?"
"Ah, yes. I remember you. We were not formally introduced then. You are Cloudbreaker's counselor, am I correct?"
"Yes," Windsurfer said with a bob of his helm. He rewarded Optimus's keen memory with a smile. Ironhide couldn't help but feel it looked overly sweet. "My trine and I manage the Prince's affairs both here in Vos and when he travels and counsel him in different matters. You are the first of the Iaconian delegates to arrive. Please. Allow me to announce you to the Emirate and Lord Cloudbreaker. They are expecting you."
"Thank you," Optimus said as the blue and silver seeker motioned them to follow him deeper inside the hall.
As they walked, the crowd seemed to part for them. A number of guests dipped their heads or bent at the waist in a shallow bow to show their respect as they passed. Starfall's grip on Ironhide's hand tightened at the sudden attention. Ironhide squeezed Starfall's hand back reassuringly. He kept a stoic expression on his facial plates as his family followed after their self-appointed guide.
Breaking through the crowd on the other side of the hall, Ironhide spotted a raised dais set up between two of the hall's arches. On the dais, seated on an ornate gold chair, was the Emirate. The elderly purple and black femme sat straight and proud, her wings framing her petite frame. Flanking either side of the throne, just like when Ironhide and Optimus first met her, were Slipstream's ever-present guards. The jet-black coneheads stood at stiff attention, their blood-red optics suspiciously eyeing anyone who came near their mistress. Ironhide fought not to cringe under their unnervingly silent gaze as he and Optimus were led to the edge of the dais. Only as Windsurfer performed a sweeping bow to the Emirate did Ironhide notice Cloudbreaker and his family standing off to the side of the dais with a group of other important looking seekers. Ironhide suspected they were probably members of the extended royal household. A hush fell over that section of the hall as Windsurfer spoke.
"Lady Emirate, Lord Cloudbreaker, may I present to you Optimus Prime, accompanied by his sparkmate, Consort Ironhide, and their son, Starfall, of Iacon."
"Greetings, Lady Slipstream," Optimus said, bowing his head to the elderly femme. "My family and I are honored by your invitation to attend such a lavish reception."
"As if I would have let you and those other senators you brought go back to Iacon without sampling a taste of Vosian hospitality," Slipstream dismissively sniffed. "Let no one say we Vosians don't know how to treat our guests." Shifting in her seat, the old femme appraisingly looked Optimus and Ironhide up and down. Ironhide fought not to squirm underneath her intense gaze. "I see you got Cloudbreaker's gifts. I'm surprised to see you actually wearing them. I bet my son you wouldn't even try them on. Planetary rings are such a gaudy fashion we have here if you ask my honest opinion."
Ironhide and Optimus shared an uncomfortable look. Let no one say the Emirate was anything but blunt.
Slipstream's gaze slowly slid from Optimus and Ironhide down to the seeker sparkling clinging to Ironhide's hand. "I see you've brought your son with you." She leaned forward in her seat, her optics narrowed with scrutiny. "Come here, child. Let me see you." The thin bands of silver on Slipstream's wrists jingled ominously against each other as she beckoned him near.
Starfall cast Ironhide a panicked look. His grip on Ironhide's hand tightened. "Daddy…" he murmured in a frightened whine. His optics quietly begged Ironhide to protect him. No doubt he found the old femme's sharpness intimidating.
"It's alright, Star," Ironhide whispered. With great reluctance he pried Starfall's fingers from his hand. It killed him inside to force his son on while he stood back and watched. "Slipstream ain't gonna hurt yeh. Remember wha' ah told yeh 'bout wantin' ta make a good impression? Now don't be shy. Go on an' say hi."
For a moment of frozen fear, Starfall didn't move. Then, with great reluctance, he mounted the edge of the dais. His wings lay flat against the length of his back, quivering with apprehension as he approached the throne. He fearfully eyed the two coneheads stationed on either side of Slipstream. Slipstream rewarded Starfall with a thin smile when he finally came to a stop in front of her, still a good pace away. Her optics ran up and down him appraisingly.
"Such a sweet sparkling," she murmured. She flicked her hand at him, motioning him closer. "Come closer, child. My optics are old. I can't see as well as I once did."
Starfall hesitated another moment before obediently stepping up to the old femme's knees. Slipstream smiled and reached out to gently cup Starfall's face in her hand. Tipping Starfall's head back she turned his face side to side, studying every angle of his facial plates. From the edge of the dais, Ironhide could only watch in quiet suspense. Would Slipstream approve of Starfall? Would she still consider him her great-nephew after she was done inspecting him?
Finally, after what felt like ages to the old war mech, Slipstream released Starfall's chin plate with an approving nod and let him step back. "Such fine modeling specs. You will one day grow into a very handsome mech, I think. It is a shame your fathers refused my son's offer of a sparkbond. I would have been glad to make you an official member of my sparkline." Sitting back in her throne, Slipstream imperiously waved Starfall away. The bands on her wrist jangled noisily. "Go on. Go back to your fathers now."
Needing no other encouragement, Starfall scurried away off the dais. He rushed to Ironhide and slipped his hand back into his, pressing his body into the side of Ironhide's leg for good measure. Ironhide quietly scowled at Slipstream. He did not approve of Slipstream's continual need to reaffirm her power over others through intimidation, especially when it was directed towards his son.
"You have a beautiful son, Prime," Slipstream announced. "I hope to see more of Starfall in Vos in the future. He is, after all, the catalyst that convinced me to reopen Vos to the rest of the planet. Until then, please enjoy my house's hospitality. Tonight's festivities are all in your honor."
"Thank you," Optimus bowed.
It took Ironhide a moment to realize that they'd just been dismissed from the Emirate's presence. With a subtle nod of his head, Optimus motioned Ironhide towards the far side of the dais where Cloudbreaker and his family stood waiting to greet them. Starfall's hand remained tightly latched onto Ironhide's as they moved away from the Emirate.
"Prime! Consort Ironhide!" Cloudbreaker warmly greeted. "Welcome. I am so glad you decided to wear my gifts."
"You both look wonderful," his sparkmate, Rainstorm, agreed. The tiny gold chimes on her helm cap tinkled softly against each other as she smiled. "Planetary rings suit you. One could almost mistake you for Vosian natives now."
Ironhide highly doubted that, but kept his thoughts to himself. As Optimus kept reminding him, they had to be diplomatic.
"Thank you," Optimus replied for the both of them. "Any and all praise must be directed towards your sparkmate, however. Without his guidance Ironhide and I would have been lost as to what was acceptable to wear."
Rainstorm smiled knowingly. "Cloudbreaker does consider himself somewhat of an amateur fashion expert."
"Did yeh an' Slipstream really have a bet goin' 'bout if we were gonna wear the rings 'r not ta-night?" Ironhide asked.
The red and gold prince smirked. "My mother initiated the bet and I took it. What kind of Prime and Consort would miss the opportunity to wear such finery to a formal event?"
Ironhide decided not to tell Cloudbreaker how close he'd come to losing. If it hadn't been for Optimus' insistence, Ironhide wouldn't have even bothered with a coat of wax, let alone fancy bands of metal he had to endure jangling over his wrists all night.
"Star," Cloudbreaker's son, Cloudburst, greeted from between his creators.
"Hey," Starfall beamed. To Ironhide's disappointment, Starfall's grip lessened and slipped out of Ironhide's hand. The two sparklings rushed to each other and bent their heads together in instantaneous, animated chatter as if they hadn't seen each other only several joors before. Ironhide couldn't help the flash of irritation towards the younger Vosian prince for stealing his son away. He would have been perfectly content to keep Starfall near him all night.
"Would you like some refreshments?" Cloudbreaker asked. Before either Optimus or Ironhide could reply, he snapped his fingers and a servant appeared by his side as if he'd teleported there with a tray of bright blue energon drinks. "Please. Help yourself."
"No thank you," Optimus said. He motioned towards the plates of metal covering his mouth. "I must uphold my mystique. Especially in the presence of foreign dignitaries."
Cloudbreaker and Rainstorm smirked.
"Drat," Rainstorm sighed dramatically in mock disappointment. "And here I had been hoping to catch you off guard and finally get to see the Prime's face. You should know there is a lot of speculation here in Vos as to what you look like underneath that mask."
"There are those who speculate about the very same thing in Iacon," Optimus joked with a deep chuckle.
Cloudbreaker glanced at Ironhide. "How about you, Consort? Surely you won't decline our hospitality too?"
Ironhide eyed the tray of drinks. Each was poured into its own individual cube which was only about a fourth the size of a normal energon cube. Across his and Optimus's bond, he felt his sparkmate silently urging him to accept. No doubt Optimus was worried their hosts would be insulted if Ironhide didn't take one after Optimus refused. Luckily for Optimus's diplomacy Ironhide had never been one to pass up a free drink.
"Ah guess ah can try one," Ironhide shrugged. He plucked a cube of glowing liquid off the tray.
"I should probably warn you those drinks are strong," Rainstorm whispered to Ironhide. The chimes on her helm cap tinkled delicately against each other over the background music as she bent her head towards him. "That particular drink is known as Blue Afterburn."
"Ah can hold meh high grade," Ironhide assured her. He raised the cube to his lips and took a deep swallow. The first thing Ironhide tasted was a rush of sweetness. It flooded his oral cavity and coated his glossa. He was just about to ask if the drink really was high grade when the drink decided to show him why it was called afterburn. In the wake of the initial rush of sweetness his mouth exploded with a heatless burn. He choked at the sensation, thumping his chest with one hand as the liquid burned a trail of fire down his intake line to his fuel tank.
The two Vosian royals were unable to completely mask their snorts of amusement at the indignant look of shock that must have shown on Ironhide's face.
"I'm sorry," Rainstorm struggled to say past repressed giggles. "But I did try to warn you."
"It was good," Ironhide coughed, trying to mask the strangled sound of his voice. "Just… wasn't expectin' that." As though to prove to them he wasn't a mech that was going to be defeated by a colorful party drink, Ironhide took a second, more tentative sip. This time, the resulting burn did not surprise him and Ironhide found he rather enjoyed the slow burning sensation that warmed his insides.
"My lord," a silky voice said from Cloudbreaker's side. It was the prince's counselor, Windsurfer. When he had arrived Ironhide couldn't say. "The other Iaconian delegates have arrived."
"Excellent," Cloudbreaker nodded. "I will introduce them to the Emirate." He tuned back to Optimus and Ironhide. "Please excuse me. Until I return, please enjoy the festivities."
"Thank you," Optimus said.
"Father," Cloudburst tentatively spoke up. "Can I stay with Starfall? There aren't any other sparklings for me to talk to and these parties are always so boring."
The Vosian prince frowned. "You should come greet the other Iaconians, Cloudburst. It is only polite of you to do so as a member of the royal sparkline."
A crestfallen look of disappointment flashed across both Cloudburst and Starfall's faces.
"It's alright, Cloudbreaker," Optimus intervened. "I'm sure the senators won't mind Cloudburst not being there. Starfall and Cloudburst can keep each other entertained while we adults socialize."
Cloudbreaker eyed the two sparklings with a contemplative look. He finally nodded. "Very well. Cloudburst, I am entrusting you to be the Prime and Consort's escort while your mother and I are greeting our other guests. Behave and listen to them."
"Yes, father," the miniature red and gold sparkling nodded gravely.
"We'll watch over him," Optimus assured Cloudbreaker with an audible smile.
Cloudbreaker nodded, and with that he and Rainstorm moved away into the crowd. As soon as the two older Vosians were out of sight, Cloudburst and Starfall turned back to each other with victorious squeals of delight. Ironhide and Optimus shared a humored look. At least Starfall seemed to be having a good time.
As their race's leading family in a foreign capital it was unlikely they would remain alone to circulate the Great Hall. Almost as soon as Cloudbreaker and Rainstorm left, a steady stream of high-ranking Vosians swarmed Optimus and Ironhide. Ironhide politely nodded and shook hands with everyone who came up to introduce themselves, but he gave up trying to remember bots' names after the third or fourth seeker introduced himself. It was Optimus's job to keep track of names and ranks, not his. While Optimus exchanged sugary greetings with the Vosians, Ironhide distracted himself by keeping half an optic on Starfall and his new playmate. The two seemed to be getting along well. Despite Ironhide's initial mistrust towards Cloudbreaker trying to manufacture a friendship between Starfall and Cloudburst, he was glad to see Starfall happy. Even if he still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of making peace with a city of former Decepticons, Ironhide had to admit it was good for Starfall to be able to be around other bots of his same model.
Caught up in his thoughts, Ironhide was startled when a deep voice suddenly spoke right beside him.
"Consort Ironhide?"
Looking around, Ironhide was surprised to find Starscream's former trinemate, Thundercracker, standing there.
"Thundercracker," Optimus greeted with a smile in his voice. "It's good to see you again."
"Prime," Thundercracker primly nodded. Optimus reached out and shook Thundercracker's hand. After a half second pause of hesitation, Ironhide offered his own hand to the seeker, which was promptly accepted and returned. "How are you liking the party so far?"
"Very well," Optimus affirmed. "Everybody has been nothing but welcoming. I'm glad to see you here. I was beginning to wonder if we were going to see you tonight."
Thundercracker gave him a thin smile. "The night is still young, Prime. You shouldn't have worried. I made a promise to seek you out and introduce you to my family. I would have found you at some point before the end of the night." Thundercracker glanced backwards over his shoulder vent. Only then did Ironhide notice the other seeker standing half a step behind Thundercracker along with the small blue and silver sparkling from the gardens earlier that day. The mech's paintjob was bright silver with blue wing stripes and edging. His optics, like most of the other Vosians', was a dark Decepticon red. "This is my sparkmate, Quicksilver, and our son, Thunderclap," Thundercracker said, motioning them forward.
"Greetings," Quicksilver smiled. "Welcome to Vos. I hope you are finding our city to your liking." The mech spoke in a slow, cultured manner. Ironhide didn't see any insignias or weapons that marked him as a military mech like Thundercracker.
Ambivalent to the adults, Thunderclap rushed to Starfall and Cloudburst. The three sparklings huddled together, talking and laughing with an instantaneous energy only young children ever seemed capable of.
"Thank you," Optimus replied. "Vos is a wonderful city. We hope to see more of it before we leave." Ever the diplomat, Optimus reached out to shake Quicksilver's hand. The other mech accepted the Prime's hand.
"Thundercracker told me he once fought you in the Great War," Quicksilver said conversationally as he offered his hand to Ironhide next. Ironhide had to juggle the cube of Blue Afterburn he was still holding to his other hand to return the gesture. The mech's grip was strong and self-assured.
"We fought each other more than a few times," Ironhide grunted. "There were lots 'a battles on Earth."
"I am so glad the Great War is over and the Emirate is seeking peace with the rest of the planet now," Quicksilver said. "I never had the opportunity to travel before the war. If Vos is reopened I would like to go abroad and see Iacon and the other great cities of Cybertron."
"We would be happy to host you if you and Thundercracker ever decided to visit Iacon," Optimus said.
"Wha' do yeh do fer a livin?" Ironhide asked. "Yeh don't look like a military mech."
"That's because I'm not," Quicksilver said. "I am one of the Emirate's administrative counselors. My trine works directly under Lady Slipstream. We make sure that the Emirate's policies are implemented to her satisfaction. That was actually how I met Thundercracker."
"After Fallout became commander of the Air Force, there was massive reorganization within the Vosian military," Thundercracker explained. "Quicksilver was sent by the Emirate to make sure several changed she wanted made were done."
"It was my job to tell an army of war-hardened mech how they were supposed to change their day-to-day doings," Quicksilver remembered with a grimace. "It was not a fun experience. I'm sure you can imagine how an administrative aide, even one as high-ranking as myself, from the Emirate's council would have been received by the upper crust of the air force."
Ironhide and Optimus both grimaced with sympathy. In the early days of the war they had both had had to deal with mechs from the Senate and High Council who wanted the army to do what they wanted. Situations where politics tried to interfere with military operations often led to violent clashes of ideology and power struggles. It seemed even in Vos where the Emirate ruled all aspects of government, the military still did not like political entities interfering in their business.
"Luckily," Quicksilver went on, "Commander Fallout did not want to deal directly with me and assigned one of his trinemates to act as his go-between. That trinemate was Thundercracker. Over the course of my assignment to the air force, Thundercracker and I spent a lot of time together. After my job was done Thundercracker asked if I would be willing to continue seeing him outside of an official capacity." A soft smile spread across the silver seeker's face as he leaned closer to his sparkmate. Their wings delicately brushed against each other. "We have been together ever since."
"So your partnership is a love-bond then? Not arranged?" Optimus asked. Ironhide could hear the smile in his sparkmate's voice. Although Optimus would never come out and admit it, Ironhide knew Optimus was a romantic deep at spark and enjoyed hearing happy love stories.
Quicksilver and Thundercracker both nodded. Quicksilver leaned towards Optimus and whispered in a conspiratorial sotto voice, "I consider myself extremely lucky. I got to Thundercracker before anyone else could try and court him. Such a handsome mech like him wouldn't have remained single for long after everyone started coming home after the war."
"The Prime doesn't want to hear this, Quicksilver," Thundercracker hissed. He shifted uncomfortably in place. Ironhide snickered at the other mech's discomfort. No doubt Thundercracker was embarrassed to be spoken of so fondly in front of others by his sparkmate. A mech of military standing like Thundercracker had a reputation to uphold, after all.
"On the contrary," Optimus said. "I am finding this conversation very interesting." Ironhide could hear the grin hiding behind his sparkmate's face mask.
Quicksilver chuckled, smiling teasingly at his sparkmate. "See, Thundercracker. You don't have to be so serious all the time. Even the Prime has a sense of humor." He leaned closer to his sparkmate so that their wings touched. "Have some fun. The war is over. We are all friends now. Let's celebrate that."
Thundercracker grumbled something too low for Ironhide to hear. Quicksilver chuckled and slipped his arm through Thundercracker's around his elbow. Although his face remained a stoic mask, Thundercracker's stiff posture relaxed under his sparkmate's touch. Ironhide was struck by the sight. Even after everything he'd seen in Vos and all the Vosians he had talked to he was still taken aback by sights like this. He was still used to thinking of seekers as Decepticons – ruthless killers whose only goal was the subjugation of the rest of the universe. It shook him to be reminded that Vosians were just like every other Cybertronian, capable of being loving sparkmates and fathers. To see Thundercracker sharing a quiet moment with his sparkmate reminded Ironhide that the war was over and some of his old views of seekers had to be reevaluated.
The lights hanging from the ceiling suddenly dimmed, throwing the hall into semi-darkness. The three sparklings huddled between them squealed in mock fright before dissolving into a chorus of excited giggles. An excited murmur went through the crowd. The Vosians congregated in the center of the hall began to drift to the sides, clearing the circular area of space underneath the hall's domed ceiling. Many of the higher-ranking looking seekers moved towards the raised sections of seats that lined the edges of the hall.
"What's going on?" Optimus asked, glancing at Thundercracker and Quicksilver.
"Come," Quicksilver said, motioning Optimus and Ironhide to follow him. "The Emirate's arranged a special performance in honor of your visit."
"Performance?" Ironhide said. "Wha' kind 'a performance?"
"Have you ever heard of Vosian wind dancers?" Thundercracker asked as Quicksilver led the way across the floor towards a section of terraced seats next to the Emirate's throne. Starfall, Cloudburst and Thunderclap trailed after the adults, giggling excitedly amongst themselves.
"No," Ironhide grunted. "What're they?"
"Wind dancing is Vos's native dance style," Quicksilver explained. "Here," he pointed up to the second highest tier of seats. "That should do well. To fully enjoy a wind dancing performance, it is important to get a seat where you can see the floor as well as the dancers." As they climbed the stairs that ran along the side of the seats, Ironhide noticed several high-ranking seekers among the groups of trines that had already claimed seats in that particular section. He recognized them from his and Optimus's whirlwind stream of introductions after Cloudbreaker and Rainstorm left them. Optimus nodded his helm in acknowledgement to the Vosian nobles as they made their ascent. In the next seating section over, Ironhide caught a quick glance of Senators Draxil, Phalanx and Defcon sitting amongst the trines of seekers. Cloudbreaker and Rainstorm sat with them, conversing happily.
"Please," Quicksilver gestured, motioning Optimus and Ironhide ahead of him towards the metal bench that ran across the width of the terrace and served as their seats. Optimus and Ironhide sat. Quicksilver claimed the spot on Optimus's other side while Thundercracker sat beside Ironhide, the two seekers sandwiching Optimus and Ironhide between them.
"Children," Quicksilver called, "why don't you three sit on the bench below us? That way you can all sit together, but we can keep an optic on you."
"Come on," Thunderclap said, grabbing Starfall's hand and pulling him forward. Starfall let Thunderclap tug him towards the bench below the adults. Cloudburst followed and the three of them clustered together so close that their wings touched and overlapped each other.
Ironhide studied them contemplatively from behind. It was obvious Starfall was becoming close friends with the other two. He was sure Cloudbreaker and the Emirate would be pleased. Without any coaxing Starfall had become friends with a Vosian price and the son of one the air force's high commanders and one of the Emirate's top advisors. Ironhide wasn't sure how he felt about that. As Thundercracker had explained, the Vosians were looking for any way they could to create political ties with Iacon through Starfall. With an arranged sparkbond out of the question would the Vosians turn their attention to trying to manipulate Starfall into becoming trinemates with Cloudburst and Thunderclap? Thundercracker had said trines could form at any age. He'd also said Starfall and Thunderclap showed potential for future trinemates.
Ironhide's fuel tank clenched uncomfortably at the thought. He had nothing against Starfall making friends with other seeker children, but the future ramifications of him becoming close to the children of such high-ranking Vosians smacked too much of political manipulation for Ironhide to feel completely comfortable with. He meant to protect his son from becoming a pawn in their planet's politics for as long as he could. The idea of locking Starfall away in his room until he received his final upgrade was still an option as far as Ironhide was concerned.
By now the center of the hall had cleared of bots. All those in attendance stood or sat along the sides of the hall. Below them on her raised dais, the Emirate lifted her hand and gave an imperious wave. The room instantly quieted. The lights of the hall brightened slightly and three trines of seekers appeared from one of the doorways that connected to the palace. They rushed the center of the room and took places in a large circle. They stood standing outwards to the audience, their backs to each other. Each trine of dancers was painted in a similar color scheme. One trine sported bright yellow paint jobs, the other blue, and the third dark green. They stood in staggered order around the circle so that no two seekers with the same paint job stood next to each other. Each dancer wore thick stacks of planetary rings around their wrists and fancy helm caps with dangling chimes. Lengths of chains were draped around each of their waists. As if the dancers' outlandish ornamentations weren't enough Ironhide couldn't help but notice the strange apparatuses strapped around the bottoms of their thrusters.
"What're those fer?" Ironhide whispered to Thundercracker, nodding with his chin towards the dancers' feet. "They look like they have parkin' boots."
"Those are what make wind dancing so unique," Thundercracker replied. "Those 'boots' as you call them, are basically removable hover devices. They levitate the wearer slightly off the ground so that when the dancer moves he does not take steps so much as glides above the ground on a thin layer of air. It gives the essence of flight without requiring the wearer to actually leave the ground."
"It takes vorns for dancers to learn how to properly balance and move in them, let alone with any sense of grace," Quicksilver chimed in from Optimus's other side. "I once tried my hand at wind dancing when I was younger. I barely took a step before I fell flat on my face."
Thundercracker went on. "Those propulsion boots have pressure-activated paint canisters attached to them. As the dancer moves, he, in essence, slides his feet across the ground along a thin layer of air. That pressurized air activates the paint canisters' sensors and leaves a line of paint in the dancer's wake. Anywhere the dancer presses his foot to the ground paint is left. All the dancers move in choreographed patterns which create designs on the floor. Each dance creates a different design. Some designs, depending on how many trines of dancers there are or how long the dance is, can be quite elaborate."
"Sometimes each trine of dancers - or if there is only one trine each member of that trine - will use a different color of paint, which changes the design even more," Quicksilver added.
Ironhide and Optimus digested this for a moment, trying to picture such a thing in their minds.
"That is so interesting," Optimus said. "I've never heard of anything like that before."
"Doesn't dancin' with paint make a big mess?" Ironhide wondered out loud. "How doesn't it get smeared everywhere? Wha 'bout afterwards? Ah'd hate ta be the servant that has ta clean all that up."
Quicksilver chuckled. "It is not like that, Consort. Wind dancers use special paint. The paint is specially formulated to instantly dry on contact with the ground. It is also designed to fade away. Come morning the design the dancers make will completely disappear."
Ironhide opened his mouth to ask another question but was interrupted by the opening chords of music. The entire Audience Hall fell silent, everyone's gaze focused on the nine seekers in the middle of the room. The music was ethereal and slow, its beat hypnotic. Ironhide had never heard anything quite like it before. The dancers began to move in perfect union to the music. Their dance steps took them sideways in a circular pattern, their movements sweeping and almost fluid in nature. Just as Thundercracker and Quicksilver had said, streaks of vibrant red paint were left in the wake of wherever a dancer slid his foot across the ground. Ironhide had never taken much interest in dance or any other performing arts and had little to compare what he was seeing to. Yet a likeness came to mind he couldn't shake. During his years on Earth he'd managed to absorb some of the local culture. Although wind dancing was a performing style unlike anything else, Ironhide couldn't help but liken the dance movements to a combination of ballet and ice skating.
As the music swelled, each trine of dancers broke into different dance movements – each dancer still perfectly synched with his other trinemates but performing different steps to the other two trines within the greater choreography of the dance. The three trines glided fluidly back and forth, in and out of each other, always in a circular pattern. Spins and long, arching sweeps of their arms and legs contributed to overall effect. The dancers moved with a hypnotic, unworldly grace. Their bodies swayed to the music, like leafs drifting on a gentle thermal draft. Their dexterity was impressive. They twisted and rolled their limbs to the music in ways Ironhide had never thought Cybertronians were capable of. As he watched in stunned awe, the blue trine of dancers arced backwards, rolling their upper bodies from right to left in time to a long swell of music before gracefully righting themselves again and spinning towards the center of the dance troupe. Ironhide couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable. There was something distinctly erotic about the way the wind dancers moved. It was subdued but undeniably present. He doubted anyone as young as Starfall, Thunderclap or Cloudburst would pick up on it, but the way the dancers bent and arched their bodies to the music, the way the lengths of chain draped around their waists swayed with their movements, and the slow, graceful way they glided in circles around the floor was quietly seductive.
Beneath the dancers, the lines of red paint were coalescing into one large design. The yellow, blue and green trines continued to dance in and out of each other, around and around the floor in a circle. At times the dancers seemed ready to crash into each but they always seemed to gracefully spin away from each at the last moment. Finally, the music began to slow. The dancers' movements became collectively synchronized again. As the music drifted away into one last long, lingering note the three trines were once again staggered in order of color in a giant circle. On the floor between them was complex geometric design of red paint. The lines intersected and crossed each other in such a way that it was impossible to tell it had been made with countless, separate streaks. Although Ironhide did not consider himself a cultured bot, he knew a work of art when he saw one.
A roar of approval rose from the Audience Hall as the music faded into nothing and the trines of dancers bent in graceful bows to the audience.
Ironhide and Optimus were too stunned to do anything else but join in with the rest of the crowd and clap. The applause continued as Slipstream stood from her throne and walked to the edge of her dais. Her black-plated guards followed half a step behind her. With a little wave she motioned the dancers to her. They approached and dipped into elaborate bows before her. Ironhide couldn't hear what the Emirate said to them over the applause of the hall, but both Slipstream and the dancers looked pleased. The dancers bowed lower to her before righting themselves and swiftly exiting towards the door they'd appeared through. The applause of the crowd continued for some time after they disappeared back inside the palace.
Ironhide continued to stare after them, still trying to make out what he'd just seen, even after everyone else in the hall picked up the conversations they'd been having before the performance began.
"Well?" Quicksilver asked after a suitable amount of time had passed. His optics gleamed with anticipation. "What did you think of wind dancing?"
Optimus was the first to speak. "That was… beautiful. I have never seen anything like it before."
Ironhide glanced at his sparkmate. "Ah think we should get a few trines of them wind dancers ta perform at whatever fancy reception the Council has next. It'll definitely make things more interestin'."
Quicksilver grinned. "I'm sure if you tell the Emirate how much you enjoyed the performance, she would be happy to send a troupe of wind dancers to Iacon to perform at whatever function you have planned next. It would be the chance for a cultural exchange between our cities."
Ironhide inwardly snickered. He'd love to see the expressions on the senators' and high councilors' faces if they were to see such a strange dance performed. No doubt most of them would be dumbstruck. Political opposition for reestablishing relations with Vos would disappear overnight.
"How do them dancers not run into each other?" Ironhide asked, glancing at Thundercracker. "They don't even look at each other while they dance. Yeh'd think they had optics in the back 'a their heads er something."
The blue mech snorted derisively. "Seekers do not need to look to see where their trinemates are. They instinctively know where they are and what they're doing. Wind dancers also move to extremely precise steps. Everything is highly choreographed. If the dancers are doing everything correctly, there is no reason for them to need to see where the others dancers are."
"Daddy!" Starfall called, spinning around on the bench below theirs to look up at Ironhide. "I wanna learn how to wind dance! Cloudburst said sparklings can take lessons."
"My creators make me go to wind dancing lessons every deca-cycle," Cloudburst said.
"We'll hafta see, Star," Ironhide said. "Wind dancin' looks hard an' we're not gonna be in Vos very long. Yer not gonna have much time ta learn much."
"I'm sure I can arrange for Starfall to take a few sparkling lessons before you leave," Quicksilver offered. "At least give him a chance to try it. Lots of children of high-ranking Vosians take lessons. Wind dancing is considered part of cultured learning here. Thunderclap just started taking lessons a few lunar cycles ago himself."
"I still can't hover right," the little blue and silver sparkling grumbled from Starfall's side.
"We'll ask about it tomorrow, Star," Optimus said placating.
A muffled series of pops suddenly sounded from outside the hall. Flashes of colored light illuminated the glass dome.
"Fireworks?" Ironhide grunted. The children all squealed with excitement.
"Come," Quicksilver said, standing up from the bench. "Let's go outside to see them." Most of other partygoers were heading for the archways that led to the crystal gardens.
Optimus and Ironhide followed after Quicksilver as he led them back down the seating and towards the nearest archway. Seekers were spread across the gardens outside, their heads tilted up towards the night sky. Plumes of color exploded and sizzled overhead. The crystals glowed in the moonlight. Their sides caught the light of the fireworks and flashed with the different colors.
Quicksilver led Ironhide and Optimus into the crystal garden to a less crowded area. As they took their places to watch the show, Starfall sidled up next to Ironhide and leaned against the front of his legs, his optics wide with awe as lights exploded overhead.
"Daddy, look at the fireworks. They're so pretty."
"They are, aren't they?" Ironhide agreed over the pop and fizzle of fireworks. Without any conscious thought Ironhide reached down and rested one hand on top of his son's helm. He usually liked to leave the optimist thinking to his sparkmate, but in that instant Ironhide couldn't help but believe those fireworks really did signal the beginning of a new Golden Age.
to be continued
Thoughts?
Next chapter we head back to Iacon to start the second story arc of this fic. I have to admit I'm kind of excited about it because this arc is the one I've been waiting to write since I started this story.
-LAXgirl