Note: I'm sorry for the lenghtening breaks between updates. Though I intend to continue and eventually finish all my WIP fics, I have a lot of new ideas that I also want to write (mainly appearing on my AO3 page). But I do not abandon them.

The grand throne chamber within the Palace of Kaon was awash with a swirling thong of mechs, copious noise that hurt Soundwave's audials and nearly palpable expectations floating like fine streamers of rainbow colours among the mechs' fields present. Among the dark but rich décor, under the soaring ceiling that made it look like the night cycle sky glittered above them the colourful mechs shifted, walked, rolled, glided and in the case of some floated from place to place like so many mecha-butterflies feeding on the crystals of the garden.

Guards punctuated the colourful crowd, like sharp punctuation marks, their weapons a clear reminder of where and why the guests were invited. From the small, hidden room over the gallery, through the spyhole designed to look like a decorative fixture, the telepath watched the collected nobles and few foreign dignitaries who managed to snatch an invitation for the celebratory event and checked the mood for any danger or inconvenience.

He was far more careful than ever before too. This snooping around in the unsuspecting processors of the nobles and diplomats was nothing new to him, but in reality he hasn't got a whiff of anything suspicious for megavorns – the citizens and nobles of Kaon were satisfied with their rulers and the few, carefully screened diplomats would not even dream of trying anything inimical in the atmosphere where they would be deactivated before able to draw a vibroknife or blaster fully.

There were the usual groups, he noted, the main figures of the military and the scientific cast converging around Dreadnought and Shockwave, trying to glean details out of the two – unsuccessfully of course, as they both enjoyed what was to come far more to spoil the surprise. The foreign diplomats collected into two distinct groups with the representatives of the allied city-states in one and the neutrals in another. Every other mech drifted from place to place in an eons old dance of courtiers… except one. Or rather, three but one dictated their path in everything.

Soundwave followed carefully a certain winged frame around even as he was assessing the whole crowd. The Winglord and his trine-mates were making deliberate rounds in the chambers, talking to all mechs, never stopping in one place and it worried Soundwave slightly. True, Starscream loved the attention and so his behaviour could have been inconspicuous – but in the light of recent events it still was a source of worry.

In the last few orns Starscream was warned through many channels and in many, covert and blunter ways to stop his plotting and talking and lately he seemed to take the warnings to spark. They couldn't stop the rumour mill to spread the news of Optronix being sparked, but Soundwave fed it a few news of his own making too. Partly to smother the whole matter into confusion, partly to attempt to explain why the much-expected news weren't released yet officially.

Starscream's thoughts as usual caused Soundwave a headache and yielded little useful information. Seekers were the hardest to read and their Winglord – trained to defend his processor through characteristic chaotic, flighty thought-processes - nearly impossible. What gave him a little solace was that the tricoloured Seeker was - covertly and well-hidden - but definitely giving worried signals and not as sure of himself as usual. His trine-mates too kept closer to him than they'd generally do, like expecting to have to protect their ruler-lover before the evening ended… and even Thundercracker fidgeted a little from time to time and he was by far the calmest of the trio. So they weren't confident, which Soundwave decided to take as good sign.

He commed to Megatron, satisfied after nearly half a joor of sampling the mood of the waiting and expectant crowd that they would be safe from unexpected and unwanted surprises during the audience. He grinned freely in the lonely little room at the Warlord's answer, grumbling about the damned protocol, like always before a grand audience. The telepath admitted to himself that it was a bit excessive, but then, it wasn't all that often – the last such occasion was vorns ago. So his brother could just swallow his growls and play his part.

Soundwave wasn't worried about Optronix at all. The Iaconian was well-trained in protocol and state functions, and so he would take the event far easier than Megatron even with the throng of stranger mechs fawning over him – and probably with considerable more grace. The telepath debated within himself for another breem to stay up in his cubbyhole or join his brothers in the chambers, but decided at the end that he could keep an optic and half his processor on the dangers from down too and left the small room.

"Lord Soundwave!" – he was spotted the klik he set a pede into the throne room – "We were wondering if you'd join us this fine evening!"

"Of course, Ambassador Tailgate. I didn't want to miss the announcement."

"Maybe you could shed a little light into the rumours flying around…"

"I can assure you that everything will be revealed in due time."

The Ambassador and the few courtiers who collected around them looked disappointed but dared not to press Soundwave any further. They continued with surface-deep chatter about the weather – which almost never changed in the Kaon region -, the fashion – which was next to nonexistent in the warrior state – and Soundwave was sure that they would bring up the inevitable third meaningless topic about the brands and tastes of high grade if Megatron wasn't in a hurry. He rather hoped to be spared any more polite conversations.

But it wasn't Megatron saving him from the utter boredom of court chatter. The klik his processor perceived the Seeker's fluttering, flighty thoughts behind him, Soundwave was alert, focused and completely ignoring the still chattering courtiers vying for his attention, while keeping his normal, polite façade on as he turned to face Starscream.

"Lord Starscream." – he bowed very slightly, less than their relative rank would dictate, keeping his tone just a touch drier than it was polite. The experienced courtiers picked up his clues beautifully, forming an empty space around him, distancing themselves from the one not in the favour of the brother of Kaon's ruler. Not that Starscream noticed it of course, more than likely the conceited Winglord took it as respect towards him or somesuch.

"Soundwave." – The Seeker was his usual conceited, almost-rude self on the surface – "Will we have to wait long for this enormous event you kept implying?"

His scratchy tone was downright rude at the last sentence, stressed his words with a lewd smirk, completely conveying what he's been spreading as a rumour – that the news were just an elaborate hoax. Soundwave kept his anger in check only with ages old practice in diplomacy.

"Not much longer at all, Winglord."

"Are you sure there won't be an unfortunate accident or something delaying the announcement?"

"I cannot foresee accidental events, but we do hope that no such thing comes across our plans. Unless you know about any such…?"

The assembled courtiers watched the two Lords with helms moving from side to side as they were exchanging loaded words like it was a duel. Which, Soundwave wryly reflected inwards, in a way it was.

"Are you accusing me, Soundwave?"

"Far be it, Mighty Winglord." – he could do dry tones as well with just a touch of threat in it – "We know that you would never act against Kaon."

Starscream's wings talked more openly than he ever did. This time they folded back so much that even his wingmates couldn't help but glance at them. It was unusual from Starscream to openly show signs of fear.

"Never!" – the Seeker forced his wings to flare forward boldly – "It would be foolish anyway."

Now, that sounded almost like honesty from Starscream. Soundwave forbid his lipplates to smirk. Just.

"Just like you say, Winglord. I'm glad that we understand each other."

He only got an angry flare of the red optics as answer before Starscream stomped away with his increasingly worried-looking wingmates in tow. Soundwave turned to the courtiers nonchalantly, like nothing special happened.

"I believe that the Warlord is about to grace us with his presence."

A small gong sounded off and the throng of mechs started to swirl again, splitting in two, leaving a straight line in the middle. The most prestigious and highest ranked guests claimed their spots by the route Megatron was going to take to his throne, while the rest tried to see the events over their shoulders and helms. The minibot ambassadors became suddenly popular as even those behind them could see far better than say from a spot behind the flaring wings of the Seekers.

Soundwave picked his way through the crowd, taking up his customary place beside the empty thrones, with himself and Shockwave flanking Dreadnought, the eldest. The other side of the thrones was occupied by the High Priests of Unicron and Primus and the flag-bearers – this time displaying not only Kaon's stark colours proudly but a smaller Iaconian flag as well. The huge chambers slowly settled, the mechs found their places and stopped talking, awaiting the second sounding of the gong, signalling the arrival of Megatron.

The ornate doors slid apart and the crowd tried to bend forward enough to see them the soonest. Soundwave nearly laughed out loud and Dreadnought did let a short guffaw out at the comical sight – the straight line of mechs, all different colours, shapes and sizes, but all leaning forward and to their left, like so many younglings sensing a delicious treat.

Megatron wore his usual, gruff and forbidding expression, but he was polished to the highest sheen his silvery armour could produce, studded with some war memorabilia and a ceremonial sword of Kaon by his side – an ancient piece, useless in war any more, but the oldest relic the family had. His sensory crests, freed from the weight of the helm spread like a proud crown over his head, making him look even taller and magnificent. Soundwave thought it a pity he freed them so rarely.

But every optic was on the much smaller frame by his side, the young Iaconian, who shone with the brightness of his cheerful colours, holding on Megatron's servo lightly, but radiating self-confidence and happiness. A slight, polite smile played on his lipplates as his azure optics rowed over the crowd waiting for him, singling out noone as protocol and manners dictated. He looked like he belonged to Megatron's side, despite of the enormous differences in height, weight, strength, colours, temperaments… everything really. But he made it all look unimportant with the self-confidence of being right where he should be.

Every single optic in the throne room – bar Soundwave's – focused on the young mech's middle, though no carrying would show even the slightest sign this early. It was nearly comical really, only Megatron didn't take it as such. His warning growl at the improper stares made the questing optics snap upwards, widen and latch onto him in sudden fright. He hurried their steps a little more than protocol would have it, but the procession still felt fairly slow between the rows of mechs all eagerly staring at them.

As tradition demanded, they stopped at certain mechs who were in favour or had a political importance and exchanged a few formal words; Megatron playing his part through much practice but little grace, while Optronix was immediately conquering the mechs on his side with his natural friendliness and trained politeness, as not even the gruff Kaonites were able to withstand his charm.

Starscream, as his rank dictated was the closest to the thrones and Soundwave slightly tensed as Optronix approached him on Megatron's arm. The Seeker's wings were flared to the fullest and his mirror-bright plating puffed up in a dazzling display of self-importance. Orion stepped closer, like he wanted to speak with him a few words and the whole room held its collective invents – but then the Consort glided on with only a glacier-cold glance thrown at the Seeker in passing, his whole, small, lithe and colourful frame radiating a sudden, surprising disdain and cold rejection that it surprised even Soundwave.

It took barely a nanoklik, but the effect was profound. Starscream's lipplates fell open and his wings jerked backwards like they were being hit before he could force them to loosen and hitched them up. A slight sussurating noise rose like wind, the many mechs around spreading the events by comms and whispers. The frames around him retreated, leaving him and his wingmates suddenly alone within an empty circle – the courtiers got the signals perfectly and suddenly no mech wanted to be associated with the apparently out-of-favour Seeker.

Megatron barely squashed his smirk and his servo tightened slightly over Optronix's in a silent approval that also came across the bond perfectly. His red optics also fell at the suddenly worried-looking Seeker and he didn't even try to contain the sneer curving the corner of his lipplates down. The same red glance softened immediately as he turned and led Optronix to the smaller throne and though he refrained from any outward signals, the bond was full of appraisal and mirth.

Optronix bowed slightly, a small smile playing on his lipplates as he waited Megatron to be seated and then took his own throne. He completely ignored the Seeker just a few steps away, contemplating fleeing from Megatron's wrath… or the complete failure of his plots and the eventual shame that would come out of it. Soundwave allowed his facial features to draw to a slow, easy smile while the anthem's deep, harsh notes rumbled through the throne room, knowing that it would make the Seeker even more nervous. Optronix might be still an unknown quantity in the power-play of the Kaon court, but the Winglord had to know that Soundwave would just become a much harder negotiating partner in the trade agreements between Kaon and Vos.

"I have an important announcement to make to the mechs of Kaon."

Megatron's deep voice rolled across the throne room after the formalities were done and the attending mechs became even more attentive, the slight murmur died down completely. Starscream was the only one present who seemed to want to disappear, though the Seeker's pride has so far barred him from a humiliating retreat. Megatron's voice acquired a proud, victorious tinge and he laid a servo on Optronix's smaller one gently.

"After so long, my Consort is carrying our sparkling, the future heir of Kaon! Let us all rejoice at this joyous occasion!"

The whisper that rose up wasn't even a whisper any more as mechs discussed the news with their friends, colleagues and fellow courtiers. It was greeted by polite but loud clapping that gradually rose to louder shouts of congratulations and well-wishes. It was important news; for the Kaonites it meant long-term stability for the growing kingdom and a happy news for the ruling family; for the representatives of the other kingdoms, it meant possibilities for future bondings, ties to be made… and of course the rise of Iacon's value among the allies by the means of simple association with the carrying consort.

The Iaconian ambassador looked surprised for a breem, like he completely forgot about the King's Consort, but masked it soon with a proud expression, like it was himself carrying the future Heir. He was immediately surrounded by eager mechs, who suddenly wanted to discuss matters concerning Iacon and Kaon. The so-far nearly ignored mech hid the fact that he never knew or talked with Lord Optronix but it didn't stop him to use his newfound fame to promise several interviews and audience with him – in exchange for promises and favours for Iacon.

"There will be celebrations and a holiday to commemorate this event."- Megatron went on, after the small roar of whispers died down in the court.

It was like the usually slow and never-changing structure of the court was suddenly reworked and revitalized by the simple fact of a small mech by Megatron's side, his easy, small smile – and the servo resting automatically on his middle, protecting its precious burden that itself was hardly more than an orn old, only showing up on Hook's deep scan and hardly a burden yet… but it gave him a confidence not even Megatron could, to face a throng of stranger mechs and stand in front of them as an equal they had never accepted him before.

Optronix felt relief and elation flutter in his tanks at the reactions – he could feel, almost touch the mood in the throne room changing towards him, from a cold ignorance into interest, respect and even some of the adulation they gave to Megatron only so far, now fell on him too. It was a heady feeling, one he still had trouble to come to terms with. On the surface he was careful to behave as protocol demanded, not singling out any mech in the throne chambers, not talking with any mech more than with others – but inside he was almost worried that it was again just some pleasant dream. Things changed so much, so fast and became so good, so perfect, that he was afraid that they would be lies.

But his worried flutter was met in the bond with a deep, intense and powerful presence that he came to recognize as Megatron and the reassuring, encouraging wave coming from him. It calmed his fears and soothed his concerns, giving him the strength to play his part further.

"Winglord Starscream." – Megatron's bass voice was drier than ash and rust – "I understand that you promised your own revelation. Now is the best time to come out with it – and join Vos to Kaon in celebration."

Starscream's dark faceplates visibly paled at being called out on his bluffs and lies publicily, in font of the whole court. Optronix caught the nervous, worried glance the Winglord's trinemates cast at each other behind his wings and the way their colourful wings trembled behind them. At any other time, he would have been interested in those wings – but now their faceplates held his attention. And every other mech's attention in the throne chambers.

The rumours the Seeker Lord has had spread were known to nearly every courtier, just like the fact that they were disproved openly by Kaon's Warlord. To be called out on it meant that the formerly close ally and influential Seeker was suddenly thrown to the cyberwolves – and Starscream has made many enemies and insulted many mechs in his puffed-up obnoxiousness over the vorns. Already some mechs were whispering and comm lines were being utilized, some mechs drifted together and suddenly many optics present were trained on colourful but drooping Seeker wings with a predatory glint.

Starscream himself gaped, his ubiquitous shrill voice remaining silent for once while his sharp and famous processor whirled almost visibly to find an adequate answer. He was a master of acting subtly and covertly and never has any mech before called him out openly on one of his schemes. Most didn't dare to, fearing his wrath or Megatron's disapproval. Now though that his protection seemed to disappear…

"I must have been… misinformed, yes, misinformed, Mighty Warlord…" – he babbled at last when the silence stretched so long that not speaking up was not an option any more – "It was such an obvious untruth that… that I've never… yes, never wanted to give voice to it."

Optronix, kind mech that he generally was, was not above feeling some measure of smugness at seeing the winged mech brought low. Megatron, on the other servo, seemed to positively revel at it.

"Of course the Winglord of Vos would not stoop so low as to spread slander about an old friend." – Megatron paused, a little, cruel smirk drawing his lipplates – "Or about my mate who is carrying my Heir."

"O-of course not! I'd never!" - Starscream's shrill voice quavered a little under the pressure – "I wish you and your mate the best only!"

"Indeed… then the best would be if you returned to your kingdom that you neglected for our sake for so long. I don't want Vos to miss the presence of its Winglord. You've graced our court for long enough."

Starscream's optics widened comically at the almost rude dismissal. In diplomatic terms Megatron just degraded Vos in front of his whole court and he couldn't even protest about it. Though his emotional state made thinking rather difficult, Starscream knew that a force like Vos was not to be belittled… unless Megatron intended to replace his support with anther… like Iacon with the influence of that little whelp of a mech, who caused him to be shamed in front of the court.

His red optics flashed on to the serenely sitting mate of the Warlord and he scowled. Fragging mech, couldn't stay barren for another few orns? The Seeker was sure that when he confronted them in that little tavern, the Consort wasn't carrying, despite of his words. Seekers had an inborn sense that told them about the presence of newsparks and his wasn't signaling back then – but it did so a few breems ago, when the Consort was close enough for it.

He had thought it would be a brilliant idea to put the mech to shame, maybe mess with his processor a little and create some discontent among the Kaonite brothers. It would have been great to have Megatron at some disadvantage at last so he could have a little more influence. Besides… he was curious about the little mech, the Iaconian Princeling he'd never seen since the bonding. How well did he take Starscream's own place in Megatron's berth… according to rumours not so well that a little messing around wouldn't affect him.

But how in the Pit they solved all his machinations and their own problems in a few orns, Starscream still had no idea. But solve it they did, he scowled while still trying to find some words that would save him from an ignominious extortion from Kaon. It would be a disgrace to be sent away like a common courtier and he'd have to think about his Kingdom's interests as well. Vos wasn't strong enough to stand on its own against the alliance of the northern kingdoms. They needed Kaon, because all the aerial might wouldn't save the flier kingdom if the grounders decided to invade the lower levels and blew the towers and spires to the Pit.

"Would you miss the Winglord's blessings for your Heir, Warlord?" – maybe if he ignored the whole sorry fiasco, Megatron would play along… or so he hoped – "I sincerely doubt Iacon would extend the same servo for it."

But Starscream's hopes were crushed in the fiery flash of those red optics he knew so well…

"You will never lay a servo on my Heir, Starscream!"

White wings jerked backwards like they were hit by the words, Starscream hissing nervously. The old buckethead was serious, it appeared. Time to beat a strategic retreat…

"I wouldn't dream so… And you might be right, Warlord, I have perhaps neglected my duties to Vos. Just like so many of my fliers, stationed in Kaon… they, too long to return to our home towers."

The court was deathly quiet. All mechs present watched the proceedings between the rulers with nary an invent to break the tension. On the galleries guards glanced at each other nervously, winged Vosians and grounder Kaonites suddenly separating, putting space among each other, unsure where the kingdoms stood now… former friends, brothers in arms, training partners were now measuring up each other as potential enemies. It all stood on Megatron's reply now…

Soundwave, though enjoying Starscream's discomfiture immensely, was frowning deeply the last few breems. A breakup between Kaon and Vos was highly inadvisable, no matter how big an afthole the Winglord was. He commed to Megatron hurriedly, advising caution and tact. Starscream was one thing – his fliers quite another. Megatron grudgingly accepted his advice and reined in his anger.

"A successful alliance should not be broken by harsh words… or base rumours." – he offered, though his voice still held the contempt and distaste. He glanced at Optronix, and continued in a slightly more normal tone – "If my Consort is willing to forget the insults… then I can do so too."

Starscream's red glance and about a hundred other pairs of optics focused to the smaller frame on the lower throne again. Optronix glanced at Megatron, clearly telling to the court that he was deferring to his mate – and then nodded towards the Seeker, optic still cold and hard.

"Your accusation, Winglord Starscream was in bad taste, unworthy for one of your rank" – Optronix paused and took in the quivering wing of the tricoloured Seeker. He repressed a gleeful smirk and continued – "But I'm willing to forget for our kingdoms' sake."

It was clear that Starscream only forced back the indignant answer to avoid an outright war. His wings betrayed his frustrated anger but he nodded, fuming and stormed out of the throne chamber. His standing in the court was in shambles, himself publicly humiliated by the one he had hoped to ensnare in his plot. Starscream was emphatically not a happy Seeker and his wingmates knew who would bear the brunt of it once in private…

Optronix, too was glad to leave after several joors of concentration and polite, diplomatic acting. The Kaon court was intense and allowing no slackness, even for one like him, growing up in a similar court. He appreciated though the straightforward honesty of the Kaonites – it was far easier to deal with than the usual behaviour in other courts, like Iacon's. Here at least he knew that the reactions he was getting could be taken as a good indication of mechs' attitudes towards him, without hidden agendas.

Like Megatron himself… once the misunderstandings cleared from between them, the mech was completely different from the stoic, cold lump of metal he used to appear to the young Iaconian. Once they left the throne room and returned to Optronix's quarters he was laughing raucously and recalling the Seeker's ridiculous reactions and fright in details. Optronix thought that it was a bit exaggerated, but then, given the stormy common history of the two, as he gained from the bond it was extremely satisfying to his bondmate.

"Are you well?"

Optronix was also glad that the fact of him carrying seemed to give an absolution to Megatron from having to appear uncaring and cold all the time and give voice to his protective side. Come to think of it, perhaps it literally did, given what he knew about Kaonites. He caught the worried glance and decided to humor him.

"It is hardly there yet, Megatron…" – he smiled back happily – "I certainly don't feel effects yet, so yes, I am completely fine."

"You felt tired… inside."

"Yes, the court was tiring – but it is my processor that feels like that, not my frame."

"That was priceless, with Starscream!" – Megatron laughed, saying the compliment about the tenth time – "I've never seen him put to his place so thoroughly – without force anyway."

"Yes, well. He deserved it." – personally Optronix just wanted to forget about the obnoxious Seeker, but he saw how important it felt to his mate, so he played along.

But he liked it far more when Megatron turned more serious and the large servo gently slid over his middle, over the gestational chamber. Maybe it was make-believe, maybe it was sentimental – but he loved the protective, loving gesture, he loved to nestle into the larger frame without being afraid of it. He still felt the underlying power, the force, the strength in it – but it was now guarding him, not hurting.

And that made all the difference in the world.