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No Particular Reference
By : LeavesofMyself
Category: Transformers > G1
Views: 2509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer in Chapter 1
Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
LeavesofMyself: GASP! This chapter remarkably doesn't have Starscream in it! (faints) lol Anyway, this is a continuation of Gift of His Grace. Enjoy!
Chapter Warnings: AU, OOC, Dark Themes, Angst, Mentions of MPREG!
Chapter Rating: T

It was indescribable as to how he felt as he stared down at the mech sitting rather comfortably across from his poised position on one of the long benches adorning their elaborate chambers. Despite the absence of words, he had still managed to bring about one that seemed to place everything into a seductive, albeit morbid, painting. In all his years at his bondmate's side, he had never before felt such a seething malevolence, such a consuming treachery. He knew the situation, knew the position his sparkmate was in, but he could, though in all consideration had no desire to; not come to comprehension just what his mate had the audacity to do. It was too much for his spark to take. There was no turning back, no bringing of peace.
Tension was thick between them, as it had been for the last vorn. And he was torn. On one side, a voice told him that he was being replaced, that he no longer could captivate his bondmate, could no longer please. It told him that the filth, that wretched harlot that was placed into his Court was there to serve but one purpose and one purpose only. It tortured him to no end. One the other side, a voice, so deeply suppressed it seemed as if nothing more than a whisper, so muffled he could barely hear it anymore. It told him things could still be mended; that the love that once bound them could be resurrected. It whispered endearingly sweet things, senseless things, and dreams; that part of his spark filled him with hope, false hope, but hope nonetheless.
Cerulean blue looked deep into the dark crimson abyss that belonged to his mate. His mate. A mech once desirable in all aspects, a mech who had promised him everything, promised to always love, that no matter how dire the situation became, he would never leave. He knew now they were tender lies and empty promises, for sitting in front of him was a mech so consumed with a dark hatred for him he saw nothing else, and it shone so dauntingly in those vacant and cold crimson seas.
"-mus," the deep reverberating sound of his mate's voice shook him from his oppressive thoughts, effectively breaking the thick suffocating silence that had befallen them for more than a breem.
"Forgive me, my Grace. I seemed to have been deep in thought."
"Perhaps you should think less in my presence. You know I do not like to repeat myself." Insulted. That was how it was now. At every turn his beloved would waste no opportunity to insult him, debase him as if he were still a mere sparkling. He took it with stride; he would not succumb to his mate's desires to see him break.
"Please, for my sake, repeat once more."
"I said I wish for you to look after and protect your new Court member, beloved."
He could barely restrain himself from flinching. It was an order, one he could not follow through with. He did not want to displease his mate anymore that he already had, but what choice did he have. His mate was still Lord of Cybertron.
"Why?" the demand for satisfaction slipping past his lips before his processor caught it. The narrowing of those crimson seas only served to remind him to no end that he was no longer dealing with the mech he once cherished, but a vacant shell of what former glory there used to be.
"You will obey me, Optimus. I will not have you question my decisions." His voice was laced with a building agitation, one that Optimus had grown used to, as it was projected at him on more counts than not.
"I have every right to question your decisions, my Lord. He is nothing more than some harlot from the lowest of pits. He is nothing, filth even. I do not wish to stress myself with having to look upon his wretched face cycle after cycle for your own bemuse-" Optimus was silence as a large silver hand crashed against his face, his helm snapping to the side from the force of the strike.
"Silence! You will not disrespect me! I may be your bondmate and I may be tied to you in more ways than one may count, but above all I am Lord Megatron, Ruler of Cybertron first and foremost. You will obey me, as your Lord I command it of you." Megatron hissed, his tone pitching from the barely restrained fury.
"Forgive me, I meant no disrespect. I am merely… dejected." Optimus spoke, his voice small, barely heard by the strained audios of his mate. Megatron mused over Optimus's choice in words before he turned away from his distressed mate, optics staring at everything but the mech before him.
"You have no reason to be. You are not being replaced."
The words did little to comfort him. He knew he would never, could never, be replaced by anyone. The Circuit would never allow Megatron to destroy the bond they shared; it would be dangerous to do so. Despite this knowledge, it did nothing to ease the ache in his spark. Just the thought of that seeker touching any inch of his mate, made him want to purge his tanks. It was so vile, so unorthodox. It was his entire fault.
"Then wh-"
"You know exactly why." The question no longer had to be voiced anymore. It was depressing to know so.
"I am your mate, Megatron."
"My mate you will stay," Megatron informed him, his face etched into a frown at the lack of title to his name but allowed it to slip for the time being. Even though he had dimmed his bond to Optimus, he could still feel the constricting torment his spark was in. "However, I require an heir to the throne. You know this."
"I have given you plenty of heirs, my Grace. It is not my doing nor wish for Primus to take them so early."
"I have never blamed you, Optimus." And so the lies continued.
"I am tired, my Grace. I wish to recharge." He couldn't argue anymore. It was utterly pointless.
"Go then."
Optimus stood and crossed the short distance between him and Megatron, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of his mate's helm before leaving for one of the adjourning doors to the chamber. With a last glance over his shoulder, Optimus entered the room, disappearing behind a large grey door as it closed.
Perhaps Megatron would one day relent and adhere to his mate's silent suffering; perhaps he would finally produce a heir to the throne that would not be stolen from him mere solar cycles after birth. They were nothing more than conceptions, but it was the last thing that floated through Optimus's processor before his systems offlined for recharge. Perhaps… but perhaps not.

LeavesofMyself: Hope you enjoyed it. I will be developing on this at some point in the future. For now, please leave a review. Thanks for reading!
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No Particular Reference	By : LeavesofMyself Category: Transformers > G1 Views: 2509 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See full disclaimer in Chapter 1

No Particular Reference