Kneeling to the Sword

by Gatekat

Knights of Light. Dai Atlas/Axe. When General Dai Atlas and his SIC decide to retire from Nova Prime's army, they know it could cost them dearly and plan accordingly.

2. Initiate Dai Atlas

Fandom: Transformers G1
Author: gatekat, ultrarodimus on LJ
Pairing: Axe/Dai Atlas
Rating: NC-17
Codes: Slash, Sticky, Historical Setting, Knights of Light
Summary:
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal 290 .html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Kneeling to the Sword 02: Initiate Dai Atlas
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wing trotted through the corridors of the Citadel, leading his new student toward the quarters they would be sharing. Though he wasn't entirely sure his current quarters would be large enough for both of them; Dai Atlas was one of the tallest mechs currently in the Citadel, if not the tallest. Wing made a mental note to look into larger quarters.

"These are the quarters we'll be sharing while you're in training," Wing chirped, sending the much larger mech a databurst with the door code. "If we need more room, I'll look into it in the morning, but for now, this is home."

"I'm sure I'll recharge fine, sir," Dai Atlas said, leaving the implication open of just what conditions he'd recharged in open.

The quarters were actually fair-sized for a mech of Wing's frame size. There was a main living area and a separate berthroom, as well as an extra room that doubled as both student quarters for any Initiates Wing might have, or an "office" space when he wasn't training a new Knight. A berth had been placed there suitable for the size of Dai Atlas' frame, though that meant that there nothing but berth in 2/3 of the room. Much of what was left, the first third of the room, was taken up by a desk large enough for him. The tiny bit that was left in front of the door was just enough to spread a meditation mat and kneel in.

"What am I expected to accomplish in my room?" he asked, taking note of the space and mentally placing meditation on the berth if they were going to be here for long. He rather hoped Wing would go for new quarters, given even the ceiling was on the short side for him. It didn't scrape, but it wasn't comfortable in the least.

White wings twitched. "I suspect you'll be in there more for recharge than anything else... I know I was for the first few decades of my training. Knight training can be utterly draining at times, especially for a new Initiate. You're also expected to meditate for at least a joor every orn, as well as studying the laws and culture of the Knights. Normally there would be some weapons practice as well, but I think we'll keep that in the training arenas." Wing tilted his helm slightly. "In your free time, you could spend time with your mate, or anything else you choose to do."

"Basic training all over again," Dai Atlas nodded and sent that to his mate, along with the location of his new quarters. "May I give my mate the door code, sir?"

The white jet smiled up at him. "Of course." He judged ceiling heights quickly, making a definite note to ask about larger quarters. "And yes, very much like basic training. Except that there are no modern weapons here. We Knights use bladed weapons only. Swords, axes, smaller blades... I know of at least one Knight who has wicked aim with throwing knives."

Dai Atlas chuckled. "Discipline is discipline; good training all comes down to good discipline. I've had some training with energon blades and plenty with hand to hand. Which means you'll likely have a lot of habits and reflexes to break before I move like a Knight does."

The younger mech nodded. "Quite a bit of discipline. Our art is a derivative of Metallikato; there will be endless orns of drills and katas, and I have absolutely no doubt you'll want to swat me through a wall now and then because of it. But in the end, it will work out, and one day you will bond your own Great Sword." He reached behind his own helm to stroke the hilt of the blade he carried, the blue gem in its hilt glowing at the touch.

"I have no doubt I'll try to swat you through a wall," Dai Atlas said in a grim warning. "For both our sakes, I hope I can't. I've been the trainer longer than Master Marwir has been functioning. I learn well, but I do expect any who trains me to be better than I am."

"I've already been through Knight training, so I know how demanding and repetitive it can be," Wing replied. "I have yet to meet a single mecha who's gone through it and not at least wanted to hit their trainers." He inclined his helm in acknowledgement of the warning. He was sure he was more than fast enough to escape any strike, and if he wasn't ... well, he deserved getting hit then. It'd teach him to be faster next time.

Dai Atlas nodded. "What is your preferred address?"

The jet smiled. "Call me Wing. I prefer to be called by name over any formal titles." The smile became an impish grin. "And you'll probably think of a few other things to call me before you're Knighted."

"Likely everything I've been called over the vorns," Dai Atlas chuckled lowly.

Wing laughed, his bright, warm field reaching out to brush lightly against the larger mech's, getting more of a sense of his new student's mixture of pride, long familiarity to being the authority and spark-deep weariness. "I don't doubt it."

The white jet chirred softly, tilting his helm to the side. "The rest of the orn is your own. You can get some recharge if you like, or go find your mate, or anything else you feel like doing, within reason."

The giant inclined his helm, accepting the 'order' and acknowledge the kindness of that much free time. ~Axe, I am free for the remainder of the orn. How long until you are ready for the washrack?~

Wing smiled once more, then all but bounced out of the room, disappearing into his own berthroom. His swords were due for cleaning.

~Almost finished here,~ the black mech replied, sending affection along with the words. ~Another groon, maybe.~

~Come to Wing's quarters, we can wash up in private,~ he purred, eager for a little time with his mate. ~Ask Dart if you can stay.~

~I'll be up as soon as I'm done here,~ Axe replied, his own eagerness accompanying the words.

Just over a groon later, the sound of familiar engines echoed into the rooms as Axe touched down lightly on the balcony. Black armor bore a layer of dust, turning him an odd mottled gray. Bright blue optics flicked around the main room of the Senior Knight's quarters, taking in the minimal decorations and personal touches that the young Knight had managed to collect and keep so far.

His attention soon focused on the giant blue and white form that took up far more of the space than was reasonable.

"You need a wash," Dai Atlas rumbled and stepped close to embrace his mate and claim a kiss.

Axe leaned against his mate, returning the kiss. "So do you, now," he teased as they broke the kiss, the dust coating his armor having transferred over onto Dai Atlas' blue plating. Resting his helm against a strong blue shoulder, Axe hummed softly, basking in the larger mech's presence.

"What did Dart say?" Dai Atlas asked, drawing Axe into the space and towards the private washrack.

"He said I can spend one night a decaorn with you, but I don't get out of any chores," Axe replied, leaning his shoulder against the larger mech's. "Otherwise, I can do what I like in my free time."

The private washrack of Wing's quarters was easily large enough for the two big mechs, the ceiling at a decent height to accommodate Dai Atlas' frame. Armor brushes, cleansers, and detailing supplies were neatly arranged in easy reach, though clearly focused on a mech of primarily white and much smaller.

With one hand Dai Atlas turned the warm solvent shower on and gently pushed his mate under it. "I've been warned this will be worse than basic training for me. Either training or recharging, but we'll see. Those norms aren't for someone with our background."

Axe leaned into the solvent, flaring his armor to let the cleanser get under the thick black plating. The floor around his pedes turned a swirling gray as the dust was washed off his frame. "You've been through basic training, advanced training, and battles that kept us on the field for orns at a time. I think Wing is going to be surprised."

"Likely," Dai Atlas agreed. "I don't think he's yet grasped that I was a senior officer before his trainer was even sparked." He leaned in for a kiss, running his hands along Axe's plating as it turned black once more. "I am sure there will be a few surprises for me as well. This training does produce amazing skill."

"He'll learn," Axe purred, tugging the blue mech under the solvent spray with him. Dark hands trailing across blue plating, leaving trails in the dust and grit that had rubbed off onto Dai Atlas. The black triple changer returned the kiss, his glossa flirting along Dai Atlas' lower lip.

A deep rumble escaped the giant as his armor flared out, offering access to one of the few mecha he trusted with it. His lip plates parted and his glossa slipped out to welcome Axe's in. "As will I," he rumbled with honest eagerness at the prospect of picking up a new skill.

Axe's fingers slid under blue armor as he deepened the kiss, running his fingertips over the circuitry and caressing the edge of a circuit board. Stepping closer, the black mech pressed himself against his mate, feeling the pulse of the larger mech's spark under Dai Atlas' chest armor. Axe's other hand went right for a white wing, stroking along the leading edge, setting off all the sensors he could reach in one smooth pass.

He was rewarded by a throaty moan and flare of Dai Atlas' field as their kiss went from playful to demandingly hungry. The larger mech's field flared and his hands moved south, digging large fingers into Axe's hips. His spike cover slid open, though his spike remained housed.

One dark hand remained on Dai Atlas' wing, stroking over the sensors and the wide planes, while the other trailed down the blue triple changer's torso to slip into Dai Atlas' spike housing. Anticipation, eagerness, and lust flowed along their bond as Axe teasingly stroked the tip of his mate's spike, nimble fingers finding every sensor on the sensitive tip. Axe's valve cover slid open invitingly.

"Mine," Dai Atlas growled deeply. His spike pressurized smoothly as his glossa delved into Axe's mouth, mapping the familiar space. ~We'll make this work, love.~

"Yours, always," Axe purred in response. His hand stroked along the length of his mate's spike, twisting his wrist to spiral his fingers over the sensitive length. The black mech's glossa slid against Dai Atlas', the smaller mech the picture of willing submission. His other hand stroked up the expanse of Dai Atlas' wing to hook into the joint, flirting with the delicate mechanics where the wing joined to his mate's frame. ~It will be a challenge, but since when have we ever backed down from a challenge?~

~Never,~ he moaned into his growl and rolled his hips into his mate's touch. ~We defied the Prime. We will not lose to a training regime.~

Deft fingertips kneaded along the base of Dai Atlas' spike before trailing back up, making sure to hit every sensor they could find on the way, the pad of Axe's thumb kneading the tip. Axe rubbed his cheek against his mate's, nipping at the armor, working his way down to the larger mech's neck. His engines revved, vibrating through his frame as he pressed against Dai Atlas.

"So eager," the blue mech rumbled, sliding two fingers inward to rub against the outer rim of Axe's valve, checking and teasing even as he relished the attention he was given. He'd long ago decided that a single, dedicated lover was far better than the variety he had indulged in as a young officer.

Axe's valve was dripping with lubricant, oozing out around the platelets to run down his inner thighs. The black triple changer moaned softly at the touch, his hips shifting into the touch, rubbing against Dai Atlas' fingers. Shifting forward, Axe curled a leg around his mate's, heelplates rasping lightly over the treads on the back of the larger mech's lower leg. "Always, for you," Axe responded, his voice a sultry purr. Blue optics gleamed up into warm red.

With a moan into their kiss Dai Atlas withdrew his fingers and shifted his grip to hike Axe up. Pinning the smaller mech against the wall he drove into that tight, willing, wanting valve with a heady growl. He stilled when he was fully seated, relishing the quiver and tight, slick heat that Axe had never lost, no matter how often he was stretched to his limit.

Axe wrapped his legs around Dai Atlas' hips, hands sliding around to caress and knead the tempting wings. Thoroughly relishing the feeling of being completely full, Axe shifted his hips slightly, rubbing his mate's spike against the sensors lining his valve and releasing a soft mewl.

"So tight, so hot, so perfect," Dai Atlas rumbled, rolling his hips back as he held Axe's still and then driving forward again, slamming his spike in deep and hard.

Axe moaned deeply, tilting his helm to nip at the base of one of Dai Atlas' three golden crests. Both palms swept over the leading edges of the upraised wings, rubbing over all of the sensors before sliding down to wiggle into the joints and seams where wings joined frame. The black mech's engines and turbines revved, the vibration rattling his plating slightly.

The pleasure flowed back and fourth, crackling along their plating to jump back and forth, the couple willingly losing themselves in the sharing their bond enabled. It was as close as they could come without baring their sparks, something neither felt safe enough to do here yet. Axe's back was pressed against the wall, pinning him even more as his mouth was claimed and Dai Atlas began to drive in and out, striking sparks as he sought the intense moment of a joint overload.

The black mech moaned into each thrust, the calipers of his valve rippling down around Dai Atlas' spike. He shifted his hips as much as his mate's grasp would allow, letting a sharp but soft cry escape into the kiss as the next thrust struck another cluster of sensor nodes. It felt so very good, and Dai Atlas repeated the thrust again and again, shifting only to strike another set of nodes deep inside the valve.

A few more thrusts and Dai Atlas angled for the cluster right at the very back, setting it up to feel the full impact of his rushing transfluid.

Axe clung to his mate's frame, blue optics meeting fiery red. Black plating was fluffed out, trying in vain to cool his systems. Condensation traced shining trails along dark armor. Tilting his helm, he nipped at Dai Atlas' neck cabling, one hand sweeping along the leading edge of a spread wing all the way to the tip vanes while the other slid into a transformation seam.

The roar was muted to a deep rumble between their frames as Dai Atlas quickly turned his vocalizer off, keenly aware that these were not his quarters and not completely private. Hot transfluid exploded against Axe's sensor nodes as Dai Atlas stiffened with the charge crackling rampant across his frame and circuitry.

The black triple changer buried his face in Dai Atlas' shoulder, muffling his roar against blue plating. His frame shook all over as his mate's overload set off his own, excess charge snapping across his armor, dancing between the spikes of his helm and lashing at the wall.

The released charge held them immobile in its grip for a long, intense klik before allowing the pair some control over their sagging frames once more.

~Love you,~ Dai Atlas mumbled with a nuzzle.

~Love you, too, more than words can express,~ Axe murmured in reply, snuggling against his mate's heated chassis and turning off his optics. There were times he still couldn't believe he'd won Dai Atlas' love, no matter how long they'd been together.

S=================== S

Dai Atlas reluctantly kissed Axe goodbye for the orn on the balcony to Wing's quarters, forcefully restraining himself from delaying his mate and himself. He knew he was just feeling possessive because they were not living together and it would pass. When the black jet descended to learn about his duties for the orn, Dai Atlas turned to face Wing as the small white jet came out of his berthroom for the morning.

"Did you enjoy the show, Wing?" he asked with a bit of a smirking grin.

Wing tilted his helm to gaze up at the larger mech. "There are no cameras or recording equipment in my quarters. We of the Citadel are not like that," he replied calmly. Then his impish grin reappeared. "But still, it was quite impressive. I hope I find a partner like that some orn."

"If you do, do whatever you have to to keep them," Dai Atlas advised seriously. "A good mate is a treasure worth fighting for. They're worth running for too."

Wing tilted his helm, acknowledging the advice. Then white wings and nacelle pinions fluttered. "And now, time for us to get moving. The practice blades in your size were to be ready this morning, and I have to see about larger quarters. Then, the training begins. But first, energon."

"Always a preferred way to start the orn," Dai Atlas agreed, looking to Wing for direction as to where they'd refuel even as he sent a quick thought to Axe that they'd likely have more size-appropriate quarters soon.

Wing led the way out of their quarters and down to the main level, where the Knights' rec room was. He showed Dai Atlas where the energon was stored, handing the much larger mech a cube. "Once we move to new quarters, I'll keep a few cubes of energon there, for quick refuels."

"Am I permitted to get energon for myself, Wing?" Dai Atlas asked in the odd mix of formal and relaxed that marked his effort to transition to being a recruit once more, and adapt to Wing's complete lack of regard for rank.

The white jet nodded, taking a drink from his own cube. "Unless someone says otherwise, yes."

There would be a stage in Dai Atlas' training that would require him to work hard on short rations, but they'd cross that bridge when they got to it, Wing decided. He was of the opinion that it wouldn't be anything the blue mech couldn't handle.

Dai Atlas nodded and drank, displaying the quick intake of fuel trained into him by a long existence on the front lines and battlefield rations. Wing knew the giant could, and would, refuel at a normal rate. He did at the Supplicant's table, after all. Perhaps he was extra-hungry, after spending a night in private with his mate, the first such night in some time.

Wing drank his own energon at a slower pace, looking around the rec room, taking in the other mecha present. A few exchanged nods with him, glancing curiously at the large blue mech he was standing beside.

Once the pair finished their energon, Wing led the way to the office where the mech overseeing the housing arrangements worked. It only took a couple of breems to get everything worked out and new quarters secured. Wing arranged for Dai Atlas to get the larger of the two berthrooms in their new quarters; being much smaller Wing could fit into a smaller space, and the larger mech would need the room. Both mechs were given the door code to their new quarters before heading down to the forges to pick up Dai Atlas' new practice blades.

Weapons secured, Wing led the way to the training rooms, finding one that was empty and shooing the blue triple changer inside. Privately, he was pleased with the tightly controlled excitement he could feel every time he got close to his Initiate. No matter what brought him here, Dai Atlas was eager to learn.

The blue and white giant settled in the center of the circle and dropped into a relaxed defensive posture, a visible mark of his existing combat training and how comfortable he was with it.

Smiling to himself, Wing brought the practice blades out of his subspace, holding them out hilt-first to his student. They were larger and much heavier than the blades the white jet used, made specifically for Dai Atlas.

"These are the weapons with which you will be training," Wing told the larger mech. "When you are ready, true swords will be forged for you. But for now, these will suffice."

"Understood," he nodded, subspacing one to test the balance, reach and feel of having one in his hand. "Well crafted," he commented after a moment, pleased with how balanced and smoothly it moved despite having very rarely handled a blade so large.

"Our swordsmiths are masters of their craft, and take great pride in their work." Wing watched the larger mech as Dai Atlas tested the blades.

Giving the larger mech some time to get used to the weapons, Wing backed off a bit, pulling out his own practice swords and running through a quick warmup. His movements were smooth, fluid, and powerful. The dull-edged practice blades wove a lightning-quick pattern in the air around him. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that his Initiate was watching him, already learning.

By the time Wing felt that Dai Atlas was ready for his first lesson the giant had displayed a clear preference for using a single blade and had dagger training. That was going to be the set of habits to break him of.

Wing studied the larger mech, watching how he held the sword before reaching out to tap Dai Atlas' other hand. "We Knights use paired swords. They can be used alone, but our art is practiced with both, one in each hand."

The giant nodded and pulled the second blade from subspace. He adjusted his stance, not hiding from his trainer that it felt awkward not to have a dominant side, or that he was confident in adapting quickly.

Wing smiled at the larger mech, circling him, tapping one blue leg to get Dai Atlas to shift his stance just a bit. Then he returned to his position in front of his Initiate, drawing his own practice blades.

"We will start with the very basics," Wing announced, then began walking the blue triple changer through the first of the many katas.

Five joors later, a timeframe where Wing would have needed at least five breaks when he was beginning, and Dai Atlas was still calm, centered and determinedly working though what he was given, accepting corrections and repeating the basic moves without a hint that he was bored yet.

Wing watched his Initiate with sharp optics, getting the bigger mech to repeat the movements until they were precise before moving on. The repetitive nature of the training eventually got on everyone's processor; he had no doubt it would get to Dai Atlas at some point. Maybe not in one orn, but vorn after vorn of it would. Pushing an Initiate past that point, making them snap and lash out, was part of Wing's function in this.

The jet's nacelles hummed, Wing lifting off the floor to nudge one blue arm into the correct position, guiding the move with one hand on Dai Atlas' wrist before letting go. He had to admit, this was going a lot better than he expected. The giant picked up what he was shown quickly and incorporated it smoothly.

The real question would be how much he'd retain the next orn.

Even if he retained only a little of it, constant repetition would eventually etch it into Dai Atlas' processor, into his very frame, and then he would never forget it. The basics would build the framework upon which all future lessons would be based. That Wing knew from experience.

He had little doubt that Dai Atlas did as well.

S=================== S

It was late in the orn when Wing led Dai Atlas back into the rec room for their evening energon. It had been a long orn, relentlessly drilling his Initiate in the most basic katas and moves.

"And now your first orn is over with," he commented conversationally to the larger mech as they entered the room. "What did you think of it?"

"Much more agreeable than the first orn of basic training," he compared it to the only thing he knew. "Taking or teaching."

Wing hummed. "There will be a lot of orns like this one... Long and repetitive. But it will be worth it in the end." One slender wing extended to tap lightly against Dai Atlas' plating as the white jet got himself a cube of energon, waiting for Dai Atlas to grab one before looking for a place to sit. "What do you think of the Citadel in general?"

"All training is long and repetitive," Dai Atlas chuckled a bit and sat down, his back against the wall and as commanding a view of the room and door as he could manage. "It's a self-contained world. Not that different from military bases on the frontier."

The young jet leaned on the table, one wing stretching out to brush blue plating again. "Sort of. Less focused on fighting, though. And with more general craftsmechs in residence." He took a sip of his energon. "How many other worlds have you been to?"

"More than I care to think about," the big mech groaned at the thought of counting before taking a long drink of his giant sized cube. "I went where I was sent. Well over a hundred, I'm sure."

"I can only imagine the places you've seen," Wing commented. "Even on walkabout, not many Knights actually leave the planet, and if they do, they don't go too far. And most of the information that filters back to Cybertron about other worlds is more than a little biased."

"To put it mildly," Dai Atlas agreed. "Besides a handful of scientific explorers that never talk outside their own kind, it's almost all military out there. If you're looking for a point of view that isn't biased the same way, I'm not one to talk to."

Wing snorted. "I'm not that likely to ever meet any of those sciency types... They don't come here, and am I actually likely to be able to understand a word they say? You've actually seen other worlds, and that's more than I ever have." The white jet leaned over to press his shoulder briefly against Dai Atlas' arm.

"Are you always this tactile, Wing?" Dai Atlas had finally had enough of wondering.

"I'm very tactile by nature," Wing confirmed, leaning back a bit sheepishly. "I like to touch. Always have."

"I would appreciate if you try and keep the touching professional while Axe is around," he said with proper deference to Wing's greater rank. "And not to touch him."

The white jet nodded, still looking sheepish. "You might have to remind me now and then. I'm so used to touching others that I've gotten into the habit of touching without really thinking about it."

"I will," Dai Atlas promised, taking another drink, then sighing as his systems signaled that his primary tank was no longer pinging warnings at him. "Thank you."

The smaller white mech smiled, taking another drink from his cube. "How did you meet Axe, if I may ask?"

Dai Atlas smiled fondly at the thought of his black mate. "Technically, it was when I walked review of my newest consignment of field officers. He was fresh out of training and I was third in command to General Cicadacon. Really, though, our first meeting was several centuries later in the officers' mess when everyone was getting wasted on local high grade after we crushed the rebellion on Santoes III. He's a very affectionate drunk and I wasn't inclined to turn him down."

Wing chuckled. "Interesting way to meet. That first meeting turn into a regular thing?"

"Not right away, but apparently I made an impression on him, even as overcharged as he was," Dai Atlas' grin was fond and thick with remembered pleasure. He took a long drink of his cube. "When he began to paw my wings when he wasn't overcharged he became interesting. A millennia later I flew a courting dance in the middle of a battle. We bonded right there, with laserfire and explosions around us. It was incredible."

Wing stared at the bigger mech, golden optics almost perfectly round. "In the middle of a battle? I can just imagine what your superiors and warriors thought about that."

Dai Atlas laughed deeply and downed the rest of his cube. "I was already a General in my own right at the time, so only Prime and the Senate were my superiors. They thought I was utterly mad, but as long as I kept winning battles for them they didn't do more than yell at me. The warriors on both sides were largely too stunned to react," he grinned excitedly at the memory. "I don't think any of them could process what they were witnessing."

The small white jet had to laugh. "After something like that, the yelling and lecturing would have gone right in one audial and out the other for me. Was there more standing around gawking than fighting for a while?"

"So I was told," the blue and white giant laughed easily. "I was not paying that much attention outside of Axe and avoiding what was directly around us."

"The gossip vine must have been churning away full-bore for quite a while after that." Wing settled back in his seat, finishing off his own cube. "Must have been quite a sight to see."

"I'm sure it was," Dai Atlas agreed. "The vids of it are impressive enough."

White audial flares visible pricked up, fanning out. "There are vids?" It took him a moment to get his eager look under control. "We don't get all the news out here, and with so few of us on walkabout at any given time, we miss out on a lot, I think."

"Yes there are vids, several hundred from what I know," he smirked at the eagerness. "Just about everybody who could capture it did, and the news crew. They got the high quality recording. I kept the best ones in my personal files."

The brightening of gold optics, the flare of white audial fins and nacelle pinions, and the thread of eagerness in the white jet's field said he would badly like to see, but he didn't say anything. Wing wasn't sure where the line between "asking" and "prying" was, and was cautious about stepping over that line. Many mechs didn't like having their personal lives pried into.

With a low chuckle Dai Atlas dissipated the empty cube. "Perhaps we'll trade vids some orn. I'm sure you have some amusing ones."

Wing grinned. "I do have some good ones. Including a few of myself I got from various members of my family, from when I was learning to fly." He dissipated his own empty cube, then stretched, flaring armor, pinions, and wings briefly. His wings wiggled briefly before resettling against his back. "We'll be heading to our new quarters for meditation after this... Have you given Axe the new door code and location yet?"

"By bond, yes," Dai Atlas nodded as he stood.

Wing nodded. "I have to retrieve my personal items from our old quarters before I head to our new one. You've got the larger of the two berthrooms, so you'll have some space to move around without constantly running into walls."

"Thank you," Dai Atlas inclined his helm. "Will you require my assistance in moving?"

The younger mech thought for a moment, then shook his helm. "I don't have that much, actually."

"Then I will see you there?" Dai Atlas suggested, settling his wings after a stretch.

Wing nodded. "I'll see you there."

S=================== S

Dai Atlas relaxed on the berth, grateful to have one large enough for himself and Axe to be comfortably close and still have open space in the room to work and move. He had few belongings, though he and Axe had everything that mattered to them. The Prime's reaction had not been a surprise and they had secured the few things that mattered to them in their subspace or on their frames. That was an advantage to their transitory existence; despite their rank, they mostly collected images, datafiles and small, easily portable things as trophies.

He could hear Wing moving about, placing items of his own in their new quarters, a place designed for much larger frames. The hum of turbines came and went, making the small white jet easy to track through the walls.

Wing hummed absently to himself as he moved about, a tune he'd picked up on his walkabout. He'd returned to the Citadel with a massive collection of music files as well as the trades he'd learned.

Looking around the room to make sure he'd gotten everything where he wanted it, adjusting the small potted crystal he was growing so it would get ample light, he spread out his meditation mat, then trotted over to peer in at his Initiate, tapping lightly on the doorframe. His Initiate was relaxing on the berth, his wings spread and quivering faintly as he watched images on a large holo-projector. Wing only had a nanoklik to see the capture of a small unit of a dozen or so military mecha posing as a group, and that didn't include Dai Atlas or Axe.

The moment Dai Atlas noted that Wing wanted his attention the projector shut down and he turned to face his instructor. "Yes, Wing?"

The white jet sidled in, tilting his helm. "It's time for the orn's meditation... Have you ever really meditated before?"

"Haven't even tried to fake it," Dai Atlas said easily and stood, unashamed of what he didn't know.

Wing chuckled. "It's something all Knights are required to do, and when it's your turn to train the next generation of Knights, you'll be teaching it, and all its various forms, to them in turn. For now, we'll start with the basics."

"Usually a good idea," Dai Atlas gave him a teasing grin and focused fully, ready to learn this new concept.

Slender white wings fluttered as the jet returned the grin. He bounced back into the main living area, where he'd set up his meditation mat. "Not everyone gets the hang of it the first time. I certainly didn't."

Dai Atlas nodded and followed, watching and listening to what was unsaid as much as to what was said.

Wing settled into a kneeling position on the mat, fluffing and resettling his armor briefly, resting his hands on his thighs. "The point of meditation is to quiet the mind, to find your calm center. It's not always easy to do the first time, but once you find it, you'll never lose it again."

Dai Atlas cocked his helm before copying Wing's posture, his frame almost reflexively attaining a neutral posture that required the least energy and component strain to maintain. "Sounds like what most of us do for weapon maintenance and polishing. You let your processors go into neutral and relax. Often it's the closest to recharge you get during battle prep or afterwards to wind down."

"We focus more on contemplation, of the things we've done and where we'd like to go in the future," Wing replied. "When I was learning, I actually fell into recharge a few times, and my Daoshi would swat the back of my helm to wake me up." He riffled his wings slightly. "But that does sound like a start."

"Are you required to write detailed reports of your own or details plans for the next?" Dai Atlas asked curiously.

Wing shook his helm. "No, nothing like that." A nacelle pinion shifted.

"Then it makes sense you'd actually need to take special time to think about it," Dai Atlas said, then seemed a bit lost. "Should I try to learn anything?"

Wing smiled slightly. "For now, no. But as you progress in your training, meditation time comes in handy to contemplate and assimilate the orn's lessons and studies."

Dai Atlas dipped his left wing in understanding and turned his helm to face forward. He easily slid into a form of trance he'd perfected long ago with the help of repetitive action, allowing his processors to clear and focus on the most important issue of the moment.

The white jet watched for a moment, then shifted his own wings, settling into his own meditative trance. While he was careful to keep a sensor and the edge of his field on his Initiate, both to keep track of his state and in case something went wrong, he had been doing this long enough that it came easily to him. He was half surprised at how easily Dai Atlas settled, but he wasn't surprised by the somewhat random ripples of negativity. As little as he knew about the older mech, he did know enough to realize that the old soldier had experienced many terrible things, and likely done many terrible things as well.

Wing's armor ruffled as the young jet came out of trance, golden optics warming up and engine idle rising in pitch slightly. The white jet shifted ever so slightly, his energy field stretching out to mingle lightly with Dai Atlas.

"If you are finished, you can come out of trance now." Wing reached out to carefully brush one hand against a large dark forearm.

"Are all Knights required to go out on a walkabout?" Dai Atlas asked even before his optics focused on the real world.

"Usually, they are," the compact jet replied. "However, on occasion mechs are granted an exemption to that rule if there are extenuating circumstances." He tilted his helm at Dai Atlas. "I can't see the Sovereign not granting you one, since the whole Citadel is aware of what could happen if you venture outside the Citadel walls."

A wisp of tension evaporated as Dai Atlas inclined his helm in understanding. "Good. It would be a shame for you to spend so much time training me only to find out that I will never advance past a Knight in rank."

Wing nodded. "The Sovereign and the Masters will most likely find an alternate way for you to advance from Knight to Senior Knight. One that won't require risking your existence or losing a Knight with a great deal of potential."

"If not, perhaps the next Prime will pardon us. I have served four Primes. I will outlive this one as well." Dai Atlas said evenly, red optics focused on Wing's golden. "I did not accept your offer simply to advance in the ranks."

Wing inclined his helm in acknowledgement. "It will be a long time before the situation comes up; we shall see what happens in the meantime."

"Agreed," Dai Atlas said easily and stood with a smooth grace that came from intimate knowledge of his own frame, learned in much the same way as a Knight did. "What is next?"

"The orn's training is done, we just finished our meditation, so now you can recharge, or study the laws and customs of the Knights and Citadel, or resume what I interrupted before we meditated. This is your free time." Wing rose to his pedes, stretching from helm to pede, getting several popping sounds from various places under his armor. "I myself am going to get some recharge."

~I'm done for the orn,~ Dai Atlas reached out to his mate even as he nodded to Wing, watching the Knight retreat to his berthroom before retiring to his own.

~I just finished up, too,~ Axe replied. ~Was stuck in one of the storage units again this orn. But at least it wasn't oil or grease this time.~

~Come up and I'll clean you up,~ he purred, letting it slip in that he intended far more than just cleaning.

~Be right there,~ was the response, anticipation threading through the words.

S=================== S

"Ah, there you are," a deep, rich voice Axe recognized from his first full orn here and the oil storage silos drew his attention from the processor numbing but very important small parts inventory he was doing.

Axe looked up from the box of parts he'd just finished with, setting it back in place and reaching for the next. It was the red Knight who had accompanied Wing on that first orn. "Here I am, indeed." The black mech straightened, stretching to try and work out a kink in his back.

"How are you getting along with Supplicant work?" Atl leaned against a shelf and relaxed, simply watching the black and gold giant.

"I'm settling back into it," Axe replied, putting the new box of parts down and looking into it. "Before Dai and I came here, I hadn't done this kind of work in a long time. It takes some readjusting."

"I'm sure," Atl nodded. "You're both adjusting far faster and better than most were expecting. I believe only Dart and the Sovereign weren't surprised."

The big triple changer snorted. "Most mecha here seem to fit Dai and myself into the category of the rank-spoiled upper command officers who never lift a finger to do anything for themselves if they have any way to avoid it. We always did everything for ourselves and we're not afraid of getting our hands dirty."

"You are right about that," Atl nodded with a faint smile. "What little news we get rarely speaks of command officers that work, or fight. I'm afraid most mecha here are here because the outside sickens them. It takes time for an outsider to be accepted. You're both doing a good job of making a positive impression on most."

"We fought, and we did all our own work. There are many officers that do live up to the stereotypes, but myself and my mate are not among them." Axe looked at the smaller mech for a moment. "I'm not certain I ever caught your designation."

"Senior Knight Atl," he introduced himself. "I'm sure you were a terror to those officers who were used to a soft existence before they transferred to your unit."

The black and gold mech gave Atl a wicked grin. "After a couple of decaorns in our unit, they generally wished they could transfer back to where they came from. Once I managed to come up behind the whole group and startle them almost literally out of their armor."

"Oh, you will be a terror of the best kind when you have some rank around here," Atl laughed easily and brightly. "Maybe Dart will finally move on from being Archon. He's entirely too good to pass it on to just anyone."

Axe's grin widened. "I probably will be. Definitely something to look forward to."

"Have you given any thought to what you want to be in the Citadel?" he asked smoothly.

Axe leaned against the table. "It has occurred to me to follow my mate's example and try to become a Knight, though apparently for that I have to be chosen as a trainee by someone who's already a Knight. Beyond that, I'm not sure."

"Most crafts are here; this is a self-contained city of sorts, though a small one," Atl said. "Most are done by Knights, but about two thirds of the mecha here are not Knights. You can be almost anything. Builder, artisan, medic, full-time creator/caretaker ... or simply take care of your mate. Once he's a Knight he'll have the funds to support you, if that is what you chose."

Black armor ruffled. "I'm not the type to just sit on my aft and do nothing. I would go stir-crazy within a decaorn. What I would prefer would be to be with my mate as an equal, not as his dependent. And I'm not even sure I have any talent for crafting. I was sparked for war; fighting is pretty much all I have ever done."

"If you ask, many of the crafters here would be willing to take on a student," Atl suggested. "Our weapon crafters are some of the finest to exist. Or you can focus on attracting a Knight ready to train ... which is basically everyone who spends much time checking out the Supplicants."

"I've seen you checking out the Supplicants," Axe pointed out, raising an optic rim. "As well as a number of others. How to go about attracting one, though..."

Atl chuckled and smiled at the larger mech. "Work hard, don't complain unduly, keep your finish up when you aren't working, show an interest in learning ... and less obvious things. If you want to be a Knight, you'll be offered the chance. May or may not be myself offering, though someone will. You do have the qualities. It's more a matter of the personal connection that needs to be made now. The relationship between a Knight and their Initiate is a very close one; training is a long, intense and intimate processes. It's critical that the pair get along and can understand each other. It is not uncommon for a Knight to feel out a Supplicant for a century or more before making the offer."

Axe tilted his helm to the side. "Wing seemed to pick out Dai Atlas quite quickly... Something tells me he's more the exception to the rule?" The dark mech made note of the rest of Atl's advice, filing it away in his processor. Through his mate he had seen Wing's swordwork, what Dai Atlas was being taught, and had listened in as Wing had told the blue mech about the Knights. Axe wanted to be part of that.

"Wing is the exception in many ways," Atl smiled fondly for his friend. "Though in this case, it is not without precedent. Occasionally the connection is made that quickly. It is not often, but it happens." He suddenly paused, then grinned and shook his head with a chuckle. "Come. We can talk as we walk. Wing wants to show me something."

Axe glanced at the parts he had been doing inventory on, making note of how far he'd gotten, then pushed away from the table and followed the smaller mech. "Wing sounds like quite a character. I look forward to getting to know him as much as I can. Did he say what he wants to show you?"

"No, but given the time it likely involves your mate," Atl said as they left the storeroom. "They should be together."

Axe made a thoughtful humming sound. Then something else occurred to him, and blue optics narrowed at the red Knight. "You described the training process as 'intense and intimate'. What, exactly, did you mean by 'intimate'?"

"What you learn about each other is often very personal," Atl explained easily. "There will be few secrets an Initiate has that their Knight does not learn by the time training is complete. Most Initiates also learn much about their Knight that few have access to as well. As sensual as Wing is, they won't interface unless Dai Atlas wants and agrees to it. There are very strict rules about what lines are simply not to be crossed. The penance for doing so..." he shuddered. "Let's just say it's deterrent enough if the moral line isn't."

Axe considered that. He didn't like the thought of sharing his mate, but he rather doubted Dai Atlas would ever agree to it. The black mech didn't say it, though. "Dare I ask what the penance would be for crossing those lines?"

Atl twitched as they entered the main building of the Citadel. "It begins with pain until the Sovereign believes you regret your actions for the right reasons. Meditation on why you did it. Sometimes ... the Knight in question never comes back from the penance chamber."

The black mech stared at him in silence for a long moment. "I can see there will be a great deal for me to learn during my time here." He looked around as they walked through the corridors. "Where are Wing and Dai Atlas?"

"In training room three," Atl said, motioning to a door ahead of them. "I'm sure you have much to learn, if you intend to be a Knight. Much to unlearn as well."

"Would not surprise me in the least. The rules seem to be very different here. It certainly promises to be interesting, though." Axe looked ahead to the door, wondering what lay behind it. Their bond said little; his mate was calm and focused.

Atl palmed the door open and chuckled softly as he walked in, Axe behind him with a clear view of Dai Atlas, two practice blades in hand, holding an odd angle, overbalanced on one pede. Wing was a few paces away, walking around him.

"Can you believe he hasn't so much as quivered in over a joor?" The white jet looked up at his friend.

Axe snickered, sauntering over to his mate and walking around him. "He gets into the most awkward positions sometimes... Some even odder than this."

"This time I'm under orders," Dai Atlas rumbled at his mate. "Don't pretend you get in any fewer odd places."

There was a wicked, mischievous look in Axe's blue optics as he walked around his mate. Tilting his helm, he looked sidelong at Wing, lifting an optic rim.

What promptly came through the bond was an emphatic sense of "don't even think about it!", to which Axe responded with an innocent look.

"A full joor and then some?" Atl raised an optic ridge at Wing. "I don't think you can manage that even now," he added with something of a dare in his voice. "Just remember, Axe, that he'll get a chance to mess with you."

Axe's grin was wicked. "I look forward to it."

Sauntering over to his glowering mate, Axe began trailing his fingertips over blue plating, going for all the places he knew would distract Dai Atlas. The larger mech's response was a squawk of protest, but he didn't move.

At least, not yet.

Wing snorted as he watched. "I'm not going to take that dare. Unless I'm meditating or undergoing a binding, you know I can't hold still. I even squirm in my recharge."

"Among other things," Dai Atlas retorted, growling at his mate. ~If you earn me a punishment you aren't getting any for a decaorn after I recover!~

Axe chuckled deep in his throat at that, managing to bat his optics at the fuming Dai Atlas. ~Are you sure you can go that long without touching me?~ he purred challengingly, finding a spot right under the base of one long wing that he knew never failed to make the larger mech wobble, even when he was standing normally on both pedes.

The big blue and white mech could only snarl as his frame reacted to that touch. His wings flared, as did his armor, silently pleading for more from the hands that knew him so well.

"And this is what you can look forward to when you find a lover worth keeping," Atl commented in distinct amusement as he watched the ancient couple.

Wing was laughing out loud as he watched, optics bright with interest. He wouldn't punish Dai Atlas; not for this. This was no more than a check on his ability to be still, not a test he could pass or fail. Not that the Initiate needed to know that yet.

Axe sidled closer, sliding his fingers under armor plating, aiming directly for the places that got the best reactions. Already he could feel Dai Atlas trembling ever so slightly, and the black mech's grin widened. This was so much fun.

Wide white and blue wings flared and flapped as Dai Atlas' engine roared in response, but still the large mech remained in pose. ~I'm going to get even with you, youngster.~

~Oh, really?~ Axe purred in response, his voice sultry through the bond. ~Is that a promise?~ One hand went for the wing joints as the black and gold triple changer circled around behind Dai Atlas again, one hand gliding along the leading edge of a wide wing.

He made it just around the other wing before Dai Atlas snarled, twisted and tackled him, slamming him on the ground as Dai Atlas' entire frame vibrated with need.

Axe grinned cheekily up at his glaring mate, wriggling under him teasingly. ~Made you move,~ the black mech chirped, quite pleased with himself.

Wing clapped both hands over his mouth to muffle his laughter, not wanting to distract the pair. He doubted they'd care about an audience at this point, but better stay quiet anyway, just in case. He did not want to miss this.

~Yes, you did,~ he growled in response and claimed Axe's mouth. ~And now you'd better finish what you started before those two decide to stop us.~

Gray-fingered black hands were all over blue plating as Axe let out a purring chuckle. Around one spread wing Axe caught a glimpse of the two Knights watching with interest, neither appearing the least inclined to intervene.

~Your wish is my command,~ Axe crooned, sneaking his fingers into wing joints and transformation seams. One black-plated leg slid against Dai Atlas' in open invitation.

A low, deep moan escaped the larger triple changer as he pressed into the contact. Yet for all his outward willingness, internally he was a bit annoyed ... as much as he loved it, he also hated how easily his mate could break his decorum. His spike slipped free as he gave up any real resistance to making a display of who Axe belonged to.

Axe chuckled as he caught that thought and the annoyance. ~Mate's privilege,~ was the unrepentant reply. Gold-trimmed black legs wrapped around Dai Atlas' hips, Axe's valve already bared and dripping, anticipating the slightly-too-big spike he'd become quite addicted to.

~As is this,~ Dai Atlas growled, nipping at Axe's throat as he drove his spike in deep in a single thrust. Unlike most times, he didn't give either of them time to adjust or relish the sensation of the slick valve tight around the large, thick, ridged spike. This time the withdraw and thrust came immediately, the pace only picking up as the pleasure crashed through them both.

Axe cried out at the swift penetration, managing to keep his voice down, clinging to his mate's frame as the pleasure sizzled through his sensor net. His hands were everywhere they could reach, working along wide white wings, sliding under blue plating. His hips rocked into each thrust, his hips meeting Dai Atlas' with a clang.

"Mine," Dai Atlas growled into a demanding kiss as his thrusts sped up, the first tingling of overload swelling from his spike.

"Yours," Axe gasped out in response, hooking his fingers into an armor seam, his fingertips gliding lightly over the underlying circuitry. A moan escaped the black mech, his hips matching the pace Dai Atlas set, his own overload rapidly bearing down on him. He keened into his mate's roar as the sudden rush of charged transfluid slammed into his valve nodes and electricity danced between their frames.

::We're going to have our work cut out for us keeping them on track if they train together,:: Atl said evenly.

::Definitely,:: Wing replied, his armor fluffed out and wings fluttering behind him. After watching that, he'd need to find some relief later.

Axe clung to Dai Atlas' larger frame as he rode out their overload, optics flaring almost white. Once his joints unlocked, he sank back against the floor, armor flared out and venting heavily.

Dai Atlas glanced at the Knights, noted their reactions, and began to roll his hips again. ~You aren't getting off that easily, my little black bird.~

"If he can hold still for over a joor, I wonder how long they can keep this up?" Atl wondered out loud.

Axe's chuckle was both out loud and through their bond, one hand reaching back to hook into a wing joint, flirting with the mechanisms that extended Dai Atlas' wings. ~I look forward to the full extent of my "punishment",~ he purred, nipping at his mate's chin.

"It's going to be interesting to find out." Wing sidled a bit closer to Atl, his field extending to brush against the larger red mech's, expressing just how affected he was by what they were seeing.

"How about we find out if you can watch without touching until they can't move," Atl purred at his friend, golden optics glittering with teasing mischief even as his field told Wing that he was no less affected by what they were watching.

"You're mean," Wing mock-whined, his optics going back to the show. His wings were wiggling wildly, trying to dissipate the charge building in their joints and along their smooth panels.

"Disciplined," Atl countered with a rumbling chuckle.

S=================== S

Seven orns had come and gone since Axe had disrupted Dai Atlas' efforts to be still. The younger mech was still doing Supplicant work and Dai Atlas' orns with Wing had settled into something of a routine. Get up before dawn, make sure he was presentable, have energon with Wing in the common room. Sometimes other Knights, with or without Initiates, would join them, but not always. Then to training in katas and a joor or two of data studies on any number of subjects that Dai Atlas hadn't been educated on in the military. After the evening energon in the common room they would retire to their quarters and meditate. Then Dai Atlas would be free to clean up, spend time with Axe or whatever he wished to do, which was generally get as much recharge as he could manage.

The previous orn katas had been cut short by a joor for Dai Atlas to learn to polish his practice blades and watch Wing sharpen his short swords.

This orn the giant knew something was up, though it was now past evening energon and the routine had not yet broken as they entered their quarters.

Wing took his Great Sword from his back, setting the blade into a bracket on the wall. Humming softly to himself, he walked over to a mostly-unnoticed or usually ignored cabinet on the wall, opening it. Over his shoulder Dai Atlas could see neatly-arranged spools of what looked like cord lined up on the shelves, each spool a different color.

Despite Wing's efforts to get him to speak more, training to keep his vocalizer mute when out of his depth was as old as Dai Atlas was and didn't break easily under the gentle pressure Wing applied to his Initiate. Instead the giant watched intently, his body language that of curiosity but offering nothing more.

After a moment of thought, the jet selected a spool of gleaming white cord. Closing the cabinet, he turned to Dai Atlas, gesturing for his Initiate to join him.

"I believe I have mentioned that the meditation we perform every orn is only the most basic form," Wing said after a moment. "This orn, it will be a little different."

Dai Atlas inclined his helm in understanding and acceptance. Even at this range and with the promise he was only curious, not fearful as many Initiates were.

"I will be undergoing this form of meditation; you will be keeping watch this time. I would rather you watch the first time, to get an idea of what to expect the first time you undergo it." Wing held up the spool, uncoiling some of the cord. "This cord is used for the binding."

"I've heard of restraint used in many ways, good and bad, but never for meditation," Dai Atlas admitted, now keenly interested.

"This is the milder form of binding meditation. Binding meditations are also used as penances, and those can be a quite disturbing to watch the first time." Wing handed Dai Atlas the spool, raising his arms, wrists slightly apart. "There is an art to tying the bindings; that I will be teaching you later, as well as the meanings of the various colors of cord."

Dai Atlas nodded absently as he studied the cord as he would a new weapon or piece of armor. "What is the goal of the binding?"

"Symbolism," Wing replied. He tilted his wrists slightly, waiting patiently.

Another nod and Dai Atlas began with a simple infinity loop containing Wing's forearms, then worked his way up to the wrist joint with the meticulous care usually only given to his weapons or plans. When he was done, Wing looked down at a reasonable interpretation of the design on the floor of the great council chamber along each forearm, though he was sure his Initiate had picked up the symbol of the Knights of Light from elsewhere about the Citadel.

"Acceptable?" Dai Atlas asked.

Wing's smile was bright. "It is." He fluttered his wings slightly before walking over to where his Great Sword was bracketed. "Every binding meditation is different; I can't predict what you will see this time. When I come out of it, I will signal you to release the bindings."

"Understood," Dai Atlas said, and Wing had no doubt that he did.

The young jet smiled at Dai Atlas again, then hooked his bound wrists over the hilt of his Great Sword, sinking to his knees before it. Gold optics dimmed as Wing sank into a meditative trance, the gem in the hilt of the Sword flaring once before dimming.

It ranked up there with one of the odder things Dai Atlas has seen, at least from his own perspective, though he'd seen enough in his long functioning to recognize that many rituals he understood the reasoning behind and felt were normal would be utterly bizarre to much of the non-military mecha out there.

This ... reminded him of the priests he'd met over the vorns. Ritual that perhaps did not remember what function it served.

For the most part, Wing remained still. Every now and then he would shift, wings twitching against his back, and a soft sound would escape. Once he murmured something, but too softly for Dai Atlas to make out any words. Armor plates ruffled slightly before settling, and Wing returned to stillness.

After a breem Dai Atlas unsubspaced his maintenance kit and began to work on his finish. It wasn't really what he paid attention to, simply something to make efficient use of the time. At this point in his existence he knew his frame well enough to bring himself to parade finish completely blind and in pain ... and had done so.

Wing squirmed slightly, hands twitching against the hilt of the Great Sword, a low keen escaping his vocalizer. That was enough to focus Dai Atlas' attention fully on the white jet, though he merely stilled to watch. After a long moment, Wing resettled, half-spread wings trembling behind him and Dai Atlas went back to his plating.

The position Wing was holding would become a painful before much longer thanks to the extent of the binding that went nearly to his elbows. It was something they were both well aware of, though Dai Atlas hadn't known that when he made the binding.

He would for next time. He didn't know what other positions might be used, but he was sure many would cause that kind of strain. With a grim thought he calculated how much it would hurt and compared it to what else he had suffered. It would be unpleasant, but nothing compared to getting a wing blasted off and no medical care for more than four orns.

Wing endured the building pain for more than a joor, his black hands slowly turning a faded gray due to lack of energon flow. His wings were flopped out behind him, almost touching the floor, trembling from bases to tips.

Finally, his field reached out to brush against Dai Atlas', signaling that the small white jet was ready for release.

Dai Atlas moved quickly but smoothly, all too familiar with caring for the injured. He lifted Wing up and off the guard of his Great Sword bodily, using his much greater height and mass to maneuver the smaller mech to lie on his front on the floor. The binding was removed with swift precision without cutting and Dai Atlas went to work massaging the graying hands back to life.

Wing made a soft sound, his trembling wings slowly folding against his back again. Cold, grayed hands twitched as power and energon flows resumed. After a moment, the smaller mech squirmed sideways until his shoulder came into contact with his Initiate's leg before he settled again. The contact was permitted, then accepted as Dai Atlas continued to work Wing's hands until they were black once more.

The white jet stayed where he was for a moment, flexing his hands slowly before pushing himself up to a sitting position. He settled close to the larger blue mech, but not quite touching him, tilting his helm to look up at Dai Atlas.

With a low huff the giant reached out to draw his tactile teacher again him. "I'm not that cruel."

Wing murmured a soft "thank you," leaning against warm blue armor. His body language and field making it clear he wasn't looking for anything else, he rested his helm against Dai Atlas' armor and closed his optics, remaining silent for a few kliks.

"You have questions?" he asked finally, not pulling away.

"Is it truly that much more effective than normal meditation?" Dai Atlas asked, his field making it clear that was just the beginning.

"A mech can learn a great deal about himself from a binding meditation," Wing replied. "The experience is never the same twice. On occasion it can be disturbing to watch, other times much less so." He settled in, content to answer any questions Dai Atlas had as long as he didn't have to move away from warm blue armor.

The giant hummed slightly. "I doubt anything this place can come up with will qualify as disturbing to me. What did you seek to learn this time?"

"Whatever I still have to teach myself," was the response. An audial flare shifted slightly, then Wing sent a databurst of one of his own past bindings. The white jet had been writhing in his bindings, the red cords standing out against white armor, moans rising to spark-tearing shrieks, heartrending sobs, incoherent pleas. Even the Senior Knight who had been watching over him had been more than slightly disturbed that time.

"Contemplating loss?" Dai Atlas guessed, no sign that he found it notably disturbing in his field or frame.

"Red cord... It means emotion." Wing tilted his helm to look up into Dai Atlas' red optics. "I've always been too emotional for my own good."

"I have noticed," Dai Atlas chuckled softly. "I've known your kind before. Sometimes mecha learn to use it to their advantage. Others crash and burn from it." He considered the gradually relaxing mech all but in his lap. "Are bindings always distressing?"

"Sometimes they are. Other times, they are quite enlightening." The last of the trembling finally subsided, Wing's slicked-down plating loosening on his frame. He still made no move to pull away, and Dai Atlas did not try to remove him.

"What does white stand for?" he asked next, thoughtful and considering as he shared this fully with his mate now that Axe was done for the orn.

"Intensity, purity," Wing answered. He shifted slightly, a wing flicking and resettling.

Axe looked through his mate's optics at the white form cuddling into Dai Atlas' blue plating, and his reaction was an amused "awwwww, that's cute."

~Cute enough to share me with?~ Dai Atlas asked with a surge of creator protocols, memories of their other charges curled between them after their first bad trauma flaring up.

Agreement flowed through the bond. ~Yes, he can stay with us. I like him.~ The black and gold mech touched down on the balcony a couple of kliks later, his armor slightly dusty. Walking in, Axe crouched down next to the pair, smiling at the sight.

~This is going to be a very strange relationship, him and me,~ Dai Atlas mused. "Come, Wing. It's time to recharge," he said as he scooped the white jet up and stood in one smooth motion.

~Strange, but definitely interesting,~ Axe agreed, rising to his pedes.

Wing shifted into Dai Atlas' arms, leaning against the broad black chest and letting himself be carried. Gold optics were already dimming, only distantly aware as he was settled between two large, warm frames and two fields mingled with his own, offering comfort and security. Wing sighed deeply, curling into the warmth of those two frames, accepting the comfort they offered. Snuggling into the dual embrace, the small white jet let recharge pull him under.

S=================== S

White armor stirred, signaling the young jet's booting up. Wing stirred slightly, purring as he snuggled closer to the warm shape next to him.

It took a few kliks for his processor to boot up all the way and realize that the warm shape he was cuddled up against was another mech's frame, a mech much larger that he was. The other mech's field completely surrounded the small white jet's, wrapping him in comforting warmth.

Gold optics warmed up as their covers slid back, the young mech blinking blearily as he tried to figure out who that comfortingly warm frame belonged to. Black armor, then a section of red. Swaths of light blue and white came next before amusement flickered in the field around his and he met large red optics.

"Good morning, Wing," Dai Atlas' deep voice rumbled through them. "Recharge well?"

Wing's optics widened, and he stared into his Initiate's red optics for a long moment. He didn't recall much more than answering the larger mech's questions the previous evening. Waking up to find himself sprawled on top of Dai Atlas was more than a little startling.

Startling or not, he was too comfortable to want to move from where he lay.

"Good morning, and yes, I did." Wing stretched from helm to pede, wings flaring out and fluttering a few times before he settled back down with a soft purr. "I'm a bit lost on how I got here, though..."

"After I untied you, you pretty much latched onto me," the big mech chuckled. "It was cute enough that Axe didn't mind you spending the night with me. It felt like you needed it," he said more seriously. "Axe would have stayed, but it's not our night together."

The white jet looked sheepish. "I'm always like that after a binding; I didn't think to warn you about that. Yes, I did need the contact." He debated internally for a moment, then slid up Dai Atlas' torso to press a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for letting me stay."

"You are welcome," warm affection laced with a protective thread Wing hadn't felt since his creators had rejected him warmed him through their mingled fields. "Axe thinks it was adorable, by the way. Is there someone I should call next time, or is this enough?"

Wing pondered for a moment. "Either Atl or Thorn. They know best how to handle me after a binding." He chewed his lower lip for a moment. "There will be some times, after some bindings, like the one I showed you last night, where the feeling of safety and security is more important. Those are more likely to be the times I would latch onto you no matter who else is around and not want to let go for a while."

"I understand," Dai Atlas murmured, reaching up to stroke a large hand down Wing's back. "You are welcome here when you need it, so long as all you wish is to snuggle. Anything more and I'll call one of your lovers."

Gratitude spread through Wing's field. The young jet leaned into Dai Atlas' hand, purring as it ran over his folded wings. Wing put his helm back down, not wanting to move.

A soft chuckled vibrated them lightly as fingers long used to winged forms turned their attention to stroking Z-folded wings, careful to keep it comforting rather than sensual. Wing practically melted at the petting, his wings slowly unfolding, presenting more surfaces to be stroked. Purring, Wing relaxed, optics dimming in utter contentment.

Amused, Dai Atlas reached out to his mate to share the scene, and their new charge's confusion when he woke up.

Axe paused in his chores, amusement flowing back through the bond at the confusion. The amusement doubled as Axe saw the puddle of jet Wing was becoming as his wings were stroked.

~That's even more cute,~ the black and gold triple changer laughed. ~And from his field, that's not even a sensual touch to him.~

~A good thing too,~ he rumbled in amusement, his strokes continuing. ~I wonder if this works when he's standing. It could prove useful.~

~I would bet that if you tried that while he's standing, he'd fall over and you'd have to catch him,~ Axe snickered.

Wing was practically strutless on black plating, as melted into a contented little puddle as he could possibly get. If Dai Atlas' hand stopped, white wings would stretch toward it, wiggling, begging for the petting to resume. The young jet was purring so loudly he was almost vibrating.

~Should I see if he'll stay put until you get done for the orn?~ Dai Atlas asked with a flare of amusement.

Axe snorted. ~From the look of him, he would gladly spend the entire orn like that. You'll probably have to push him off if you want to move, and I would bet good credits he has a particularly devastating pleading look in his arsenal.~

~As if Quiverstrike and Tango didn't?~ Dai Atlas reminded his mate. ~Or you, for that matter. But yes, I'm sure he does.~

~You've got a point,~ Axe agreed. ~And you're going to be spending the orn in that position from the look of him. Unless you feel the need to chance The Look. If you two are still like that when I'm finished here, I'm taking image captures for my personal files.~

~I don't doubt it,~ Dai Atlas actually laughed across the bond, though it was swirling with conflicting emotions. Joy at having a new charge. Trepidation at the expectation he'd out-live another charge. Uncertainty that he could take the loss again so soon. Grief at the long list of those he'd raised, trained and watched extinguish under his command or elsewhere.

Axe's thoughts wrapped around Dai Atlas', the closest he could get to a comforting embrace without actually being physically present. ~Maybe, just maybe, it will be different this time,~ he murmured. ~The Knights do not fight if they can at all avoid it, and once they are Senior Knights they don't even leave the Citadel grounds. There's no reason for anything to happen to him.~

~Only so long as no one who knows about the price on our helms finds out we are here,~ Dai Atlas shuddered slightly and curled into the support. His hand never stopped stroking Wing's limp wings, not truly wishing to burden the relative youth with this truth. ~Prime would obliterate the entire Citadel to ensure we extinguished.~

~We were very thorough in hiding our escape from the city, and very few know where the Citadel is,~ Axe pointed out. ~But you are right. However, that doesn't mean a mech can't hope for the best, for us and for the jetling we've apparently adopted.~

Wing shifted slightly, leaning into the petting. His helm rested on Dai Atlas' chest, right over his spark. Contentment and utter bliss swept through his field.

It was difficult not to be soothed by it, and Dai Atlas wasn't one to reject being soothed when he wanted it. ~Yes, a mech can hope for the best, as long as we plan and prepare for the worst.~

S=================== S

Dai Atlas had gratefully drifted into recharge with the contentment-oozing Wing on top of him, intending to take advantage of the break as much as he could. Despite that, he was bolt upright, on his pedes, wings flared and in a hand-to-hand combat crouch with Wing rolled off onto the berth behind him when his ever-on proximity sensors noted a mech come into the room that wasn't Axe.

Red optics flared brightly, the processors behind them not truly on line yet beyond the basic combat protocols.

Wing squawked in surprise at the sudden movement, flailing as he tried to get his balance back. Wide golden optics took in the blue mech's stance, then noticed the mech in the doorway. Scrabbling for a grip on the berth, Wing managed to get his balance and throw himself forward, practically onto Dai Atlas' back. "It's okay! That's Thorn!"

The slim black Knight had wisely backed off, keeping his distance. He eyed Dai Atlas with the respectful wariness an old warrior deserved, raising his hands to indicate he was not a threat.

Within a few nanokliks it was over as the higher functions of Dai Atlas' processors had time to finish rebooting and take in the situation. Gradually he relaxed his stance.

"My apologies, Knight Thorn," Dai Atlas offered the formal tones he didn't use with Wing anymore. "Reflexes don't shut off easily."

"I understand," the slim black Knight with gold and glowing red markings smiled shyly. "I was concerned when you and Wing didn't show up to train."

Wing remained where he was for a moment, shifting so he wasn't on either of Dai Atlas' wings and looking over the larger mech's shoulder. "My fault. I spent the night curled up on top of him after a binding meditation last evening, and he discovered by accident that I melt when my wings are petted."

"And the smart Initiate he is, he took advantage of it to get a few extra joors recharge," Thorn chuckled lightly. "As long as everything's okay, I'll be going."

Finally letting go and dropping off Dai Atlas' back, Wing came around the larger mech, one wing flaring out to lightly touch blue armor. "Everything's fine. But next time, call first?"

"I will," he gave Dai Atlas a wary optic. "Normally you don't have such an aggressive guard in the berth with you."

Wing bristled. "He's taken and was off-limits before I chose him as my Initiate. You know how much I crave contact, any contact, after a binding."

Thorn flared his black veined, golden wings in apology and surprise. "Usually that contact is for more than a snuggle and you know it. I don't doubt he can tell you no, but I know how hard that is when you need."

White armor settled slowly. "He has a bonded mate, which makes him off-limits. Besides, considering how much bigger than me he is, I doubt anything would be possible anyway. Cuddling he's fine with; for anything more, he'll call you or Atl to pry me off."

"I'm sure between Axe and myself we are perfectly capable of restraining Wing even if he isn't capable of recognizing what he's doing," Dai Atlas added, then gave Wing a teasing look. "Though I know from experience that a great deal is capable despite the size difference."

Wing made a face at him, but the field brushing against Dai Atlas' expressed only amusement. "I'll take your word for that."

Thorn couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you are going to have a time with this one, Wing," he smiled at his friend before turning to leave. "Good luck."

"It's certainly going to be interesting," Wing retorted, watching the taller black mech leave. "But I look forward to it!"

"We'll see how long that lasts," Dai Atlas turned a bit more serious. "Energon, then back to kata practice?"

Wing poked Dai Atlas teasingly with a wingtip. "Might as well get back to it. Unless you would rather spend the rest of the orn petting my wings." He grinned up at the blue mech, then walked out into the main room.

S=================== S

Axe sank gratefully into his mate's berth, content with the warmth of his mate on top of him, the heat of Dai Atlas' transfluid inside him and the crackling pulse of their overloads just beginning to fade.

The blue mech purred as he leaned down to capture Axe's lips in a kiss, his red optics meeting his mate's blue. Feeling completely disinclined to move, he took his time shifting off the black and gold mech, eventually only sliding off to his side. It left one wing nearly touching the floor and the other well towards the ceiling, but it was as far as he went.

"Any hint as to who might take you on?" Dai Atlas asked lazily.

"There are three mechs who seem to be going out of their way to spend extra time with me," Axe replied, shifting to lean against Dai Atlas' chest. "Atl, Dart and Blueflash. It could be any one of those three."

Dai Atlas hummed. "Do you have a preference between them?"

"I will do my best to work with whoever decides to take me as an Initiate," Axe replied. "That said, I'm leaning more toward Atl or Dart. Not particularly struck on Blueflash."

"Because you want to avoid someone who can chase you skyside?" Dai Atlas teased with a nuzzle.

"So speaks the mech whose teacher can fly rings around him," Axe teased back, nipping at the tip of Dai Atlas' nose. "And no, that's not why. There's just something about him, I'm not entirely sure what."

The larger mech nodded his understanding. Gut instincts were something they had both learned to trust implicitly over their long existences. "It'll likely be Atl, I'd bet on it."

"Atl I like. If he takes me on, working with him will certainly be interesting. Maybe not as interesting as what you have with Wing, but interesting nonetheless." Axe grinned. "Speaking of, I do wish I had been able to get an image capture of him sprawled across your chest, completely blissed out."

"It can be repeated anytime you're ready," Dai Atlas chuckled. "Apparently it's one of his great weaknesses, and he's shameless about indulging with a willing petter."

The black mech's amusement swirled through their bond, echoing Axe's laugh. "Definitely a most interesting mech, our jetling. You're going to have quite an interesting time training with him."

"I already am," he agreed. "Have you given much thought to what I showed you of binding meditation?"

Axe nodded. "I've been pondering it most of the orn. From what I understand it's something that has to be learned and undergone, though I can't say I'm eager to experience it myself. Has Wing made of any mention of when you might be expected to undergo it for the first time?"

"Soon," he rumbled. "Either your next night to stay, or the decaorn after. I have no idea what I'm going to be like, if it even works for me, but I'll probably need some kind of attention."

Axe leaned in for a nuzzle. "I will be here for it, that I promise." Determination seeped through their bond as Axe rested his helm against his beloved's shoulder.

"As I will be there for you," he promised. "Have you seen either of your potential Knights fight yet?"

"I caught a few glimpses of Atl sparring with another Knight," Axe replied. "Haven't seen Dart yet. Watching Dart fight should be interesting. He's one of the smallest Knights I've seen, so his style would be something to see if he has to keep even with his rank-mates."

"Is he impressive?" Dai Atlas asked, honestly curious. The single match he'd witnessed was Wing against a dark burgundy femme of the same frametype and Wing had been trounced, though Dai Atlas had been an instructor long enough to recognize that the match had been severely mismatched from the beginning. Marwir carried herself as a true master, and the database listed her not only as a Master Knight, but Wing's Daoshi, his instructor.

"It was quite impressive to see," Axe agreed. "It's a skill I would be quite willing to learn. I haven't met many mecha who use twin swords the way the Knights do."

"And he kicks aft," Dai Atlas chuckled in memory of the even larger triple changer that went by Titanium. "I wonder if he trained here."

"It's possible, though the style of the Knights looks different than what he used." Axe shrugged slightly. "We could always ask one of the older Knights. And recalling that he did kick serious aft makes me even more eager to learn."

"You have even more work ahead of you than I do," Dai Atlas rumbled, leaning over for a kiss. "Adapting all this to your ax."

"It might be more work, but it's work of a type I look forward to. Once I have my ax again." Axe returned the kiss, one hand sneaking around a blue shoulder to stroke the cables in the back of his mate's neck.

A low hum of agreement and Dai Atlas gave up on talking and turned his attention back to enjoying his mate's frame before the black and gold mech had to leave for the night.

S=================== S

Axe touched down on the balcony of the quarters Dai Atlas shared with Wing, walking inside. The white jet looked up, smiling at him, as he set the Great Sword he carried on his back into a bracket on the wall.

Spotting his mate, Axe walked over to lean against him. ~Are you ready for this?~

~As I'll ever be,~ he replied, the not understanding he felt towards what was going to happen thick between them.

Axe rested his helm against Dai Atlas' shoulder, watching as Wing checked the height of the Sword, then moved over to the cabinet. The white jet debated for a long moment, then picked up a spool of pink cord and closed the cabinet. Holding the cord, he turned to face the two larger mechs, tilting his helm slightly.

Without a word Dai Atlas stepped forward and knelt so he offered his forearms at Wing's level. As uneasy as he was, it wasn't about what might happen, but if nothing happened. As short as his time had been, he's already grasped how critical the bindings and spirituality were to these mecha. It was something he'd spent the better part of four Primes of service not even considering.

Quick fingers created an elegant yet simple binding between Dai Atlas' wrists, the knotting swift and ornate. Wing flicked a loop near Dai Atlas' white fingers, looking up to meet red optics. "This will release some slack into the binding if the compression becomes too tight."

"Understood," Dai Atlas inclined his helm. His field steadied as his pragmatic nature took over. Pre-battle jitters settled as they always did. This was no longer the time to think, but to do and accept what came.

"He's stubborn," Axe said quietly. "Is there a medic on duty ... when it's over?"

The white jet lifted a hand to brush his fingers over Dai Atlas' helm, then stepped back, lifting off the floor. Holding the center of the binding, he guided the larger mech over to the Great Sword, slipping the binding over the hilt. The Great Sword was warm against Dai Atlas' hands, the blue jewel glowing softly from within.

"If a medic will be needed, then Hardwing and Redline are only a call away," Wing answered, setting down next to Axe. Golden optics remained on Dai Atlas for a long moment before turning to Axe. "I arranged for you to stay all of next orn, if it proves necessary. This may not be quick, and it might end up being more than a little disturbing."

"It won't be the first time, I doubt it will be the last," Axe murmured, watching as his mate settled into the almost-kneeling position he was forced into. "It won't scare me away."

"That's good. He will need you after this is over." Wing settled onto the floor, watching the blue mech as Dai Atlas easily sank into the light trance of his normal meditation. "The first binding rattles everyone."

"He's tough to rattle," Axe cocked his helm as he settled next to Wing, relaxing in the way of one used to long, uncomfortable waits. "What's the subject this time?"

"What the binding evokes in him might prove differently." Wing tilted his helm toward the black and gold mech. "Each color of cord has a different meaning, and each evokes different responses and memories. When I underwent the binding a few orns ago, I was bound with white, which represents intensity."

"Something you have plenty of," Axe chuckled, then considered the smaller jet. "Do bindings ever leave you feeling good?"

Wing nodded. "It does happen, yes. There are quite a few times I come out of a binding feeling good, feeling refreshed or renewed. You will experience bindings like that, when it's your turn." Gold optics turned toward Dai Atlas, watching the large blue mech as he began to twitch. More apparent, however, was the affect on the mech bonded to him.

Axe rumbled, catching hints of what was going on despite the largely blocked bond. "Which is it, loss, pain or the past?"

"The pink color represents loss," Wing answered, his wings twitching against his back. "There are very, very few who aren't rattled by what that color evokes in them." He looked from Dai Atlas to Axe, one wing extending as if to touch black armor, then catching itself partway and folding again.

"It's okay," Axe smiled at him, unhappy that his mate was facing so much grief, some that was still healing, but not about to blame Wing for it. "If he's going to have to deal with all of it, we'll be here a very, very long time."

"If it takes longer than expected, I will arrange with Dart to take you off the chore roster for as long as necessary. Dart has been through this; he knows how disturbing it can be. All those who've been through Initiate training and bonded a Great Sword know." The wing slowly extended again, stopped, and drew back but didn't fold all the way. Wing scooted a little to one side.

"Thank you," Axe murmured, his field expressing how much it meant to him to be allowed to be there for his mate. His optics dimmed, sharing Dai Atlas' pain as the larger mech sobbed and thrashed, trying to pull away but never with enough strength to break the cord or the hook that held him.

Wing inclined his helm, then sidled closer to Axe, carefully leaning into black armor. His field mingled with the larger mech's, revealing how much he hated having to put anyone through what Dai Atlas was experiencing, necessary or not. "He needed you to be here, and I would never deprive him of that support. Besides, I doubt you would be able to continue chores with this coming through the bond."

"Not without far more motivation than I have," Axe acknowledged, twitching as his mate bellowed in a mixture of grief and rage. "I can and have continued to fight. We've never survive if we couldn't."

Wing let out a soft chirr, leaning his helm against a black arm. "That is true."

After the better part of a joor of watching Dai Atlas twist, convulse, writhe, keen and sob in turn, Axe glanced down at the white jet that he was beginning to think of as his own. "You know you can ask questions. You'll be told if you aren't going to get an answer."

Slender wings shifted, one brushing against Axe's plating. "I have to admit I am curious as to what happened in his existence to cause so much grief, so much pain. But I do not wish to pry."

"Have you seen battle, real battle, where both sides only seek to obliterate the other?" Axe asked gently, preparing to build the picture in increments for what he believed was a mech as innocent as one freshly sparked for the army.

Wing shook his helm. "I was sparked a stunt flier. After my creators rejected me, I wandered until I found my way here. I've never seen real battle. I can fight, all Knights can, but I have never experienced war."

Axe nodded, his field smooth and accepting. "Have you witnessed death of a friend?"

White armor flattened to Wing's frame. "I didn't really have many friends where I came from. No one really wanted to be around me unless they had to. I have seen mechs die, while I was on walkabout, but no one I would consider a friend."

Again Axe nodded, his field offering acceptance without judgment. "Try to imagine watching a good friend cut down before you, because of your choices, there because you asked them to be there."

Wing frowned, trying to imagine that. A slight shiver ran through his frame, and he leaned closer to the black mech. "I can't even imagine that kind of pain."

"Those are some of our less painful memories," Axe said gently, one hand moving to stroke trembling and tightly tucked wings. Trembling wings slowly relaxed under the light stroking, Wing's armor relaxing equally slowly.

"We have lost twenty-eight creations, and he has lost many more," the black and gold giant elaborated.

That revelation caused armor and wings to clamp down again, the jet making a soft, mournful sound. "No wonder he is in so much pain now."

"Yes," Axe said softly, feeling for his mate and not at all looking forward to his turn at this. "The existence of a skilled front line warrior is not an easy one. No matter how often you experience the loss of comrades and creations, it never truly gets easier. Soldiers as old as we count by the number who remain, not those we have lost. The list is so much shorter."

A bit of shifting got Wing under Axe's arm and against his side, making a soft chirr. "An existence I can't even imagine."

"I am glad, honestly," Axe smiled down at him, his fingers still stroking tightly held wings comfortingly. "Those losses are why we tried to retire, and why we came here. It came to be too much, given the reasons we were fighting. It is one thing to give your spark to protect Cybertron and our kind. That is the very reason sparked soldiers exist. We exist to fight and to one orn extinguish in defense of our world and Prime. But so many wars on alien worlds, far from home, not for the good of our kind but for the ambitions of an insane Prime," even saying it caused Axe to tremble, protocols objecting strenuously at such treason. "He's served four Primes. I've served two. We've both known all there is to know in military life. At its best, it is wonderful. A tight-knit group of close friends and lovers enjoying every orn to its fullest. At its worst..." he nodded towards his mate and the agony on display.

The stroking of his wings was slowly getting Wing to settle down, one slender wing stretching into the touch. "I can understand why you would want out. But it couldn't have been easy to leave your friends behind."

"It wasn't. Harder was leaving our troops behind, not knowing who would command them next, but knowing that it wouldn't be a General who cared as much as we did," Axe agreed. "Knowing that more would extinguish in every battle than had to because the mecha in charge wasn't as good as Dai Atlas is. That is a burden we will both bear for a very long time to come."

Wing chirred again, not knowing what to say to that. He nestled closer to black armor, resting his helm against Axe's plating. Gold optics returned to watching Dai Atlas, white plating ruffling in sympathetic distress.

::A binding penance?:: Sovereign Vanguard pinged Wing's comm after a particularly loud and disturbing scream of denial from Dai Atlas.

::First binding, actually meditation. I was not expecting it to be this violent,:: Wing responded, shifting against Axe's side.

::He will be a long time coming to peace with his past,:: the old mech advised knowingly. ::Do call if you have difficulty bringing him out.::

Wing hummed his agreement. ::His bonded is with us; I might have to steal Axe from Dart for the duration of this. If we need help, I will call.::

::If Dart gives you any trouble over it, direct him to me,:: the Sovereign said before closing the connection.

"Did we disturb someone?" Axe asked uneasily.

"The Sovereign was merely wondering what was going on," Wing answered. "I warned the other Knights in this area that there would be a first binding being undergone tonight, so the rooms around us are mostly empty at the moment. Sovereign Vanguard also gave me permission to keep you here for the duration of the binding, and for however long Dai Atlas needs you afterward." He shifted slightly, resettling against the larger mech.

"Kind of him," Axe murmured, relaxing fractionally. He went sharply tense when his mate let out a spark-rending sob, his optics going wide in horrified surprise.

Wing's armor stood on end, nacelle pinions and wings flaring. "What? What is it?" One hand tightened on a black armor plate, the young jet twisting to look up into Axe's blue optics as they went nearly white.

"Oh Primus," Axe whispered, his armor flaring and flattening in distress. "His shielding is gone. I can get everything," he struggled to speak. "His second charge ... turned traitor. Dai Atlas had to execute him, himself."

Wing keened softly in distress, pressing closer to Axe. Neither of them could touch Dai Atlas until the blue giant signaled that he was ready, so the jet pressed against his Initiate's bonded instead. Wing could not imagine having to do what Dai Atlas had had to. Almost flattening himself against black plating, Wing carefully merged his field with Axe's, trying to provide some small bit of comfort.

He found it readily accepted, welcomed, and half-felt Axe channel the support to Dai Atlas. They couldn't touch, but there was no stopping the bond's efforts to soothe its other half.

Wing was practically in Axe's lap, a swath of white against the gleaming black and gold. "Tell me about your friends, the good times, everyday life," the white jet murmured. "The good memories might help ease some of what he's going through."

Axe nodded and focused his efforts on hundreds of millennia of good memories, selecting the best and brightest of every kind to think about and try to support his mate with without distracting him from what he had to do.

"Did he tell you how he proposed to me?" Axe asked, a fond smile spreading across his features.

"He said he flew for you during a battle," Wing replied, perking up. He still had yet to see any vids of this. "And there was a great deal of gawking on the parts of both armies."

"Oh, that there was," Axe chuckled, his field warm and full of awed fondness at the memory. "It led to a rash of similar proposals, though none quite so spectacular until a pair of Seekers who had lost their Action decided to court a new one using a battle as the backdrop. That was incredible to watch too. I know I was cheering them on."

"That would have been something to see," Wing agreed. "Atlas was teasing me with hints that he has vid files of his flight for you. He said that some orn he and I might trade vids; I have some amusing one from when I was learning to fly."

"Oh?" Axe grinned devilishly. "I'll trade. Might even throw in one of my dear Atlas overcharged. He's quite amusing like that, so long as there's someone big enough around to either stop him or pull him out of wherever he's flown."

Wing grinned brightly. "Sounds like fun. And he sounds like an interesting drunk."

"Oh he is," Axe snickered. "Not as fun as I am, but I get many more good vids of him than he does of me. I'm just too affectionate for my own good. He likes to fly, and seems to have issues with directional control and object avoidance."

Wing laughed, settling himself in the larger mech's lap and getting comfortable. "I can't wait to see some of what he's gotten into."

"Let's see one of yours, and I'll share our bonding flight," Axe continued to run his hands over Wing's folded wings, grateful for the distraction from his mate's pain. It was hardly the first time he'd been able to do nothing but watch, but it never got any easier.

Wing leaned into the stroking, sending a databurst with some of his more memorable moments from learning to fly. The young jet had had a tendency to latch onto whatever he ran into, leading to some interesting and awkward moments.

One in particular, when the young stunt jet had run into a bridge under construction and become entangled in the cabling when he latched on caused Axe to laugh with a sense of familiarity. "I get the feeling you've never grown out of the clinging phase," he teased lightly.

"Nope," Wing agreed cheerfully, wings wiggling happily under Axe's hands. "I just got into the habit of clinging to mechs more than walls and half-built bridges."

"Fair is fair," Axe sent a databurst with the best of his vids of Dai Atlas in a courting flight during battle, then his own acceptance dance and their bonding merge high above the grounders.

The white jet purred as he viewed the vids. "That is even more impressive than I imagined. He's very good at skydancing. I hope someday I get the chance to dance for a partner." Wing shifted slightly, offering up a vid of one time he'd been chasing a small swarm of glow beetles and had flown smack into the flight leader of one of the professional stunt teams in the troop he'd been sparked into.

"He had time to practice," Axe smiled, only to wince when Dai Atlas keened, nearly breaking his vocalizer when it morphed into an outraged roar. "He planned that for longer than you've been in existence." He offered a vid of Dai Atlas overcharged and drenched in old oil from the holding silo he'd flown into, and forgotten he could climb out of if he transformed.

The white jet flinched at the keen, wings pulling tight to his back for a moment before slowly relaxing again. Viewing the new vid, he giggled. "Was it you who had to fish him out of the strange places he managed to get stuck?"

"Once I was generally considered his regular berthmate, and definitely once I was his SIC," Axe nodded, stroking Wing's wings as much as a distraction as to provide comfort. "Before that ... sometimes he'd have a berthmate long enough to get the job, but it was usually the SIC or TIC's duty to see to their commander's needs."

Wing was well on his way to melting into the stroking, turning into a puddle of jet in Axe's lap. "Did it ever involve actually grabbing a limb and dragging him out of wherever he got stuck?"

"Arm, leg, helm crest, wing, nosecone, tailfin, whatever was in reach," Axe chuckled and offered up another memory that had been passed down from his predecessor. This one was of Dai Atlas' pedes waving wildly as he was stuck in a window at the shoulder, after having forgotten that his wings were far wider than the rest of him.

Wing cracked up completely, slumping against Axe's torso, laughing so hard his chassis hurt. "Oh Primus..."

Wing responded with a vid of the time a glow beetle had managed to climb under the young jet's armor. He'd been running around shrieking and flailing, with tiny sharp insect feet skittering over his wiring and circuit boards. It had taken over a joor for the blue-carapaced insect to find its way back out.

"You have a thing for those critters, don't you?" Axe smirked, rubbing the white jet's helm affectionately.

"Name one youngling who hasn't spent part of an orn chasing the colorful glowing beetles," Wing retorted with a chuckle. "They're slow fliers, colorful, and they glow. Sparklings love playing with them. I used to keep them as pets before I left my home." He leaned his helm into Axe's hand, flaring his audial fins.

"I doubt my dear Atlas did," Axe chuckled. "Mecha our size can barely notice them. We had larger targets," he shared his particular fascination with the smaller avians, most of them organics from other worlds, frequently in bright, reflective colors.

Wing perked up at the images from other worlds, things he'd never seen before. Interest and bright curiosity bled into his field, pulsing gently against Axe's. "I've never seen creatures like those. Never have I been off the planet."

"Most worlds we deployed to were organic ones," Axe said, offering a few more vids of the various creatures he'd encountered. "Mechanical worlds tend to bow to the Prime's authority without much fuss."

White wings wiggled as Wing took in the creatures and the worlds. "Few Knights go offworld, even on walkabout. We very rarely have the chance to see what other worlds look like, or what lives on them."

"I'm not that sure you're missing much, really," Axe admitted. "Most of the universe hates us, for good reason."

"Because of the Prime." Wing made a face. He flicked a wing in an insulting manner, then settled down, stretching his wings into Axe's hands. "I would have liked to see some of these worlds. But it's just too dangerous."

"It is," Axe agreed. "Even for mecha as skilled as a Knight. Cybertronians are only really safe with large, well-armed units nearby, and that's far from a sure thing towards the border. Don't be so enamored of the universe. There's nothing out there worth the effort to see. Understanding Cybertron is a far more worthy use of resources."

Wing chirred, curling up in Axe's lap and leaning against the larger mech's torso. "That all depends on your point of view."

"Mine is the survival of Cybertron and our kind," Axe said grimly. "This world can't sustain itself like this forever."

"And mine, as of now, is adventure and exploration." Wing shrugged slightly. "Of course, I am still young and haven't gotten the playfulness knocked out of me yet."

"I'm not sure it ever will," Axe chuckled, rubbing Wing's helm playfully as they drifted into silence once more.

S=================== S

One hundred and sixteen joors into his first binding meditation and Dai Atlas keened, a sound even more pitiful and lost than what had escaped him before. Axe shuddered, his armor flattening tightly to his protoform as it dredged up memories he was in no way healed from either.

~Love,~ Axe pressed against their bond, silently pleading with him to ask for release.

Instead the giant threw his weight back violently, snapping both cord and the hook holding him upright and just off his knees, sending himself to fall backward and Wing's Great Sword to clatter to the ground.

Wing scrambled out of Axe's lap, letting the black mech go to his mate. Retrieving his Great Sword, Wing placed it on a table, turning his attention to his Initiate. White armor flattened to his frame as the young jet eased closer, torn between giving the couple some space and pressing himself against blue armor.

Dai Atlas looked in terrible shape. His frame was too weak to truly react; he'd spent the bulk of his remaining energy freeing himself from the Great Sword's grip. He only barely managed to curl into a ball as Axe did a mixture of scooping him into his lap and curling around him as the black mech sobbed just as hard as his mate.

Wing took in the blue mech's appearance with one swift glance, then opened a comm to Hardwing. The white jet crouched just out of arm's reach of Dai Atlas, wringing his hands helplessly. A distressed keen rose from Wing's vocalizer, but the two mechs in the room with him were too consumed by their own grieving to even know he was there anymore.

Even as Hardwing stepped into the now crowded quarters the bonded pair were working their own solution. With Axe doing much of the moving, Dai Atlas rolled to his back and unlocked his chest plates. His mate was so close the movement wasn't visible, only the glow of one bright golden-red spark that was soon mixing with a rich blue one gave away what the couple were doing.

Wing watched, his wings trembling, armor clamped tightly to his frame. He liked the two larger mechs greatly and didn't want any harm to come to them. Keening softly, he eased the tiniest bit closer.

A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Don't," Hardwing insisted. "Not while their sparks are exposed. They may not be aware of us now, but get in field range and they'll both react to protect their spark and their mate's spark."

Wing nodded, backing off. His wings continued to tremble, his soft, distressed keen never stopping. "Will it help? Merging their sparks?"

"Most likely. It will remind them what they have to live for," he said quietly. He wasn't about to tell the young jet that it was also a way to commit suicide favored in ancient times. Times that were within the living memory of at least Dai Atlas, if not both of them. "Do you know what loss triggered this?"

Wing shook his helm, drooping. "I don't know. Axe gave me a general idea of the losses Dai Atlas has suffered in his past, but no real specifics."

"I can guess at the worst of them," Hardwing said grimly, watching as the merge progressed with the speed only very old mates could manage. "Lost creations, executions of his own, friends he knew he was sending to their death, atrocities worse than anything we could comprehend. A front line military officer as old as he is will have witnessed everything one being can do to another, and committed most of them."

Wing seemed to shrink in on himself. He had been the one to bind Dai Atlas; he had put the big mech through hell. The young jet hoped Dai Atlas would be all right; he did not want to lose his Initiate.

"Remember, he has to go through this," Hardwing murmured. "Whatever set him off is unlikely to have healed no matter how long you waited. It is likely the reason they came here."

"That doesn't make me feel any better for having to put him through it," Wing replied, his optics on the pair as soft keens escaped them, their frames trembling as energy began to crackle over them.

"Training an Initiate can be as difficult for the Knight as the Initiate," Hardwing smiled softly at the relative youth. "It is worth it, to see them return to the Citadel after their walkabout. Though I don't suppose those two will leave."

Flattened armor stood on end. "If they venture outside the Citadel, there is a very good chance they will never return. Nova branded them deserters; there is a bounty on their helms. I will not train Dai Atlas just to see him cut down like that."

"The bounty is likely to be repealed by the next Prime," Hardwing told him. "Nova Prime is an old one already. These two will outlive him as they outlived the others."

"I get the feeling Nova won't fall soon enough for them." Wing turned back to Dai Atlas and Axe, his armor settling again. He watched energy crackle over black and blue armor, shifting slightly as he witnessed an act normally too intimate to be shared even with close friends in the room.

"I expect so," Hardwing agreed, forcing his arousal down with the aid of medical protocols as the merge reached its crescendo. "Though even then they might not be required to go on a walkabout. Its purpose is to expose young Knights to the outside world. I doubt there is much that those two could learn or experience out there that is new to them."

"Probably not," Wing agreed. "They've probably seen and experienced just about everything there is out there."

Wing shifted again. Not even he was immune to what he was witnessing, but his distress at seeing his Initiate's condition was keeping the worst of the arousal at bay. For the moment.

The keening moan that escaped the pair as the spark-driven overload crashed through them was equal parts pleasure and grief, but it was enough for Hardwing to be sure that they weren't in any danger of surrendering to their grief.

For a lingering moment the only sound in the room was the lovers as they gasped for cooling air, the pop and crackle of cooling armor. Then the distinctive sound of their chest armor sliding back into place and locking.

"They'll be all right for now," Hardwing told Wing softly, though his hand held the compact jet in place.

Relief crashed through Wing's field, the jet's trembling slowly subsiding. Wing settled down, his wings loosening from their strut-creakingly tight tuck, his optics still on the two much older mechs. "I'm glad," he murmured, watching as the pair gradually relaxed. Grief was still thick around them, but the destructive despair was fading.

"Dai Atlas, can you drink, or should I inject energon directly?" Hardwing asked.

It took the giant a long moment to focus enough to processes the words. Then longer to contemplate the answer.

"Inject it," Axe said wearily as he pushed himself more or less upright. "I doubt he can sit up and I know those hands don't work yet."

Wing chirred, straightening slightly. The jet eased a few steps closer, then stopped, unsure if either of them wanted him near them. Shifting his weight from one pede to the other, Wing debated what to do next.

"Dai Atlas?" he called softly, audial fins folding closer to his helm.

The blue giant tipped his helm to the side, his optics taking unusually long to focus. "Wing."

"Help me get some circulation going again," Axe said as he picked up one of his mate's hands and began rubbing it, clearly familiar with how to get circulation going again.

White armor loosened and settled into its usual position as the white jet eased over, settling next to his Initiate and taking the larger hand in his own. It was cold to the touch; Wing began kneading the metal, encouraging the power and energon flows to resume. Gold optics slid over to meet unfocused red as Hardwing set up an energon infusion line and began to pour processed energon into Dai Atlas' primary line.

Gradually Dai Atlas' optics focused more readily, and with it his processors.

~Don't you dare hurt him for that,~ Axe reprimanded the first thought that crossed his mate's processors.

A deep rumble was the response, but tension eased from his frame as he stared at Wing. "You do that willingly?"

Wing nodded. "Every Knight and Knight-in-training goes through that. For some, it's worse than it is for others." His armor clamped tightly to his frame, and he dropped his gaze. "I didn't expect yours to be so distressing."

"Pink is loss," Dai Atlas said evenly, color beginning to come back to his hands. "I have known too much loss."

"Some of it neither of us have done more than accepted that we were going to keep going after it," Axe added quietly, accepting a cube from Hardwing and gulping it down.

Wing tried to shrink into his own armor, his hands tightening briefly on Dai Atlas' larger one. Guilt threaded through his field, quickly suppressed.

"Instead of feeling guilty, you can just stand still the first time I really try to hit you," Dai Atlas said, something between serious, teasing and vaguely delusional.

"I recommend not listening to him until after I let him out of the berth," Axe chuckled weakly. "You have no idea how hard he hits."

"I can guess," Wing retorted with a snort, flicking his wings at the black mech. "I'll pass on that, if you don't mind." He curled his dark hands around Dai Atlas' index finger, working the joints gently. This close he could get the full breadth of the big mech's field, and it wasn't a pretty thing, but neither was it hateful.

"Focus lover," Axe focused on his mate as Dai Atlas began to drift. "You'll regret it if you recharge on the floor again. We're both too old for that."

"Hate floors," Dai Atlas mumbled, but focused on the struggle to get upright.

Wing was entirely too small to help lever the bigger mech to his pedes, but that didn't stop him from ducking under Dai Atlas' arm to press himself against blue armor briefly, his purr and field expressing just how glad he was that the larger mech would be all right. After a moment, the small white jet backed off again, figuring he'd lost any cuddle privileges he'd had for a while.

Instead he left maneuvering his Initiate to the larger mechs and darted into the Dai Atlas' berthroom to deposit several cubes of energon. He had no doubt that they'd be needed by the time the giants were ready to face the world again.