[Flights of Fancy] Topsy-Turvy 04
Feb. 26th, 2018 06:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Topsy-Turvy
Universe: Flights of Fancy
Characters: Megatron/Rodimus, Soundwave, Shockwave/Orion Pax, Drift/Perceptor, Starscream, Ensemble
Rating: M
Enticements: Harpyformers AU, Sexual Content, Romance, Unrequited Love, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: If asked, Liege Megatron of the Kaon Aerie would say his life was perfect. With a content, growing flock to manage, he had nothing to worry about. Loneliness was part of a Liege’s life, he’d decided. Until the bright-spirited Hot Rod comes along, determined to be the exception to the rule.
Morning arrived, and Megatron didn’t need Soundwave to wake him. He’d slept very little and was already at his smaller, private desk when his second slipped into his nest, Buzzsaw perched atop his shoulder. Laserbeak was no doubt lurking somewhere nearby. The smallest twins were rarely seen one without the other.
“Eager to work?” Soundwave asked.
“Eager for a distraction,” Megatron replied with a little sigh. Movement in his peripheral vision alerted him to Soundwave sliding a small plate onto his desk.
Breakfast was served. Megatron didn’t ask Soundwave to do this, but his second had taken it upon himself, and now it was something of a habit. Candied pecans, a bowl of blackberries, and a dish of rolled oats.
Comfort food.
Megatron slanted a look at Soundwave. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“You still grieve.” Soundwave lingered, his head tilted. “And you did not sleep.”
“I did. A few hours.” Megatron snagged a handful of pecans and threw them into his mouth. He’d spent a good portion of the night tossing and turning in a nest-berth that felt far too large. “It was enough. Is there anything urgent today?”
“No.”
“Pity.” He crunched noisily on the pecans, rapping his talons on the desktop. “Did you find someone to assist Orion?”
“Affirmative.”
“Good, good.” Megatron exhaled audibly and gave Soundwave another look. “Are you happy here, Soundwave?”
A small laugh rose from his second’s chest. “Affirmative.” Soundwave rested his hand on Megatron’s shoulder, unerringly finding it despite not being able to see him, the weight warm and welcome. “Question strange. What happened?”
Megatron rubbed at his forehead. “Hot Rod joined me on a flight last night. I may have offended him when I suggested he seek another mate.” He lowered his hand and sighed. “My intentions were good. I want him to be happy. I need him to realize it will never be with me.”
Soundwave made a non-committal noise. “Cruel, but potentially effective,” he said, and there was chastisement in his tone. “However, the core is not so easily swayed. You, of all harpies, should know this.”
Yes. Yes, he did.
Another sigh escaped him. “Should I apologize?”
“Explanation would also be helpful,” Soundwave said and his hand slipped free of Megatron’s shoulder. “But apologies are always welcome.”
He was right, of course. But then, Soundwave usually was.
He excused himself afterward, leaving Megatron to consume his breakfast as he mused. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t entirely unopposed to Hot Rod. Another time, another situation, different circumstances, and Megatron had no doubt he would have chased after Hot Rod on his own.
It would be easier if Hot Rod wasn’t always so present. Always around, in Megatron’s periphery, within reach and enticing.
Megatron scrubbed the heel of his palm down his face. He sighed. Enough brooding. He had work to do. Rather than sit in his nest and castigate himself for repeated mistakes, he could make use of himself.
He rose from his desk and departed his nest, though he briefly floundered. What to do? Without conscious decision, he turned left, following the curve of the aerie toward the archives and the small office connected to them.
Soundwave’s counsel was invaluable to him. But he could be too pragmatic for his own good. Megatron could use the advice of another, and times like these, there was only one he could rely on for the point of view he desired.
Despite yesterday’s revelation, Megatron was not at all surprised to find the tapestry for Orion’s workroom pinned open. He should be in his nest, cuddled up with Shockwave, but if he wanted to work, Megatron wouldn’t stop him. He would ensure that assistance was available if Orion wanted it, but he couldn’t force it.
Megatron braced himself and ducked through door. “Orion, I hate to bother you but...” His words trailed off as he realized Orion was not alone. “Oh, I apologize. I did not realize you were busy.”
“I’m not.” Orion treated him to a smile and tilted his head toward Hot Rod. “Thank you for the assistant, by the way. Though I’m not sure I’ll need one.”
“Assistant?” Megatron echoed.
Hot Rod straightened from where he stood at Orion’s side, peering over his shoulder at the parchment spread across Orion’s desk. “You told Soundwave to reassign me, sir,” he said, his tone perfunctory and polite. “This is it.”
Oh, but he and Soundwave would have words later. A warning would have been nice.
“I see,” Megatron said.
“Did you have something you wanted to ask me?” Orion asked, attracting Megatron’s attention once more. He was all but glowing this morning, happiness radiating from him in nearly visible ways.
Megatron shook his head. “Nothing that can’t wait.” He managed a smile for his dearest friend, and couldn’t stop himself from slanting a look at Hot Rod.
The pretty smol ignored him. His attention returned to the parchments on the desk as though they were the most fascinating item in the aerie.
“I’ll leave you to your work,” Megatron continued as he backed toward the door.
“Are you sure?” The smallest of frowns curved Orion’s lips. He looked concerned now, brow drawing downward, and that just wouldn’t do.
Megatron forced his smile into something reassuring. “Yes. I am. Hot Rod, good luck.”
“Thank you, my liege.” Hot Rod dipped his head into a small nod. “Hopefully, this will better suit.” His words were polite, but something in them cut like the sharp slash of an angry talon.
Megatron concealed his wince and made his escape. Emotion boiled up inside him, a mixture of shock and outrage and guilt. He must have really hurt Hot Rod, judging by the smol’s behavior. Hot Rod hadn’t spared so much as a smile for Megatron.
Spinning on a tarsal, Megatron headed for Soundwave’s office. This early in the morning, it was the best place to find his Speaker, if Soundwave wasn’t on one of his many self-assigned tasks. They needed to have a chat, it seemed.
No such luck, however. The door was pulled back. The desk was neat and tidy. There was not feather nor talon of Soundwave inside. Not even a sibling lurked in the sun-dappled shadows.
There was no point in wandering around looking for Soundwave. Megatron was better off attending to his own duties and checking back for Soundwave later.
Perhaps he ought to check in on Starscream.
Megatron climbed to the levels reserved for residences. Most of the nests were located here, though a few were also sporadically placed around the aerie. Like Perceptor and Drift, who were as near to the canopy as one could get without being above cover. While Maximus and Rung resided on the lowest floor, with the former preferring solid ground beneath his feet.
Starscream had chosen a nest somewhere around here. Though Megatron would check with Perceptor next if he couldn’t find the newest addition to his flock. He also reminded himself to see what Soundwave had learned, if anything, and what he would share. Megatron’s flock was allowed its secrets, but Soundwave still knew all.
The door to Starscream’s nest was pinned open, and he’d even hung a charming little sign above the top of it, his name carefully inked on a sanded board. Drift’s work, if Megatron could hazard a guess. Megatron rapped his knuckles on the thick knot of wood framing Starscream’s door, remembering well how Starscream had shied away from even the most casual of touches.
“Starscream?”
“Come in!”
Permission granted, Megatron ducked inside, only needing to stoop a little to accommodate his larger height. Not all nests were built the same, after all.
Starscream had opted for the large nest-berth in the center, with the rest of the nest arranged concentrically around it. Megatron spotted a desk, a washbasin, a book shelf, and a small dresser built into the woven branches. Starscream’s nest was also near to the thick trunk of the massive tree that held their home. The curtain to his balcony was wide open, letting in a nice breeze.
“My liege!” Starscream blinked in surprise as he turned away from his bookcase with an armful of small books – obviously human-made. “Is something wrong?”
Megatron, well aware of Starscream’s personal space issues, elected to linger near the door. He didn’t want to intrude any more than was necessary. “No. I merely wanted to check on you. Make sure you were getting settled and that there were no problems.”
“Oh.” Starscream adjusted his grip on the books. “Well, uh, I’m fine. I like it here. Everyone’s pretty helpful, and it’s nice to have my own space.”
Megatron nodded. “That’s good to hear. So no issues?”
“None at all.” Starscream moved to his desk, dumping the books onto it with audible thumps. “I help Perceptor with his research when I can. I’ve looked in on Drift’s training sessions. But I do spend a lot of time at the university.” He paused and gave Megatron a nervous look. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
Megatron fought back a chuckle. “Yes. As I said before, we don’t restrict contact with the humans, but for your own safety, we do like to know when you leave and return, so we know if we should be concerned or not.” He leaned against the door frame. “We are friendly with the university humans, but because of that, others know that the harpies here are… acclimated to humans. There have been incidents.”
Starscream nibbled on his bottom lip. “Incidents?”
“Thieves and the like. Attempts to abduct harpies outside the aerie. It’s why we are so insistent on security and guards for the Gathering,” Megatron explained and while it pained him to see Starscream flinch, he hoped that it helped the smol understand how important it was.
Megatron had few rules for his flock. Every last one of them were designed for the safety and comfort of everyone. He wouldn’t deny Starscream the opportunity to pursue his dreams, and any member of his flock was free to leave at any time. All Megatron needed to know was whether or not someone could be considered missing.
Starscream’s throat bobbed. “I see.” He rested one hand on his books, and Megatron hated to see the small tremble in them. “Then it is reasonable to keep one informed of my plans. I’ll always tell Perceptor when I leave and when I expect to return.”
“Thank you.” Megatron smiled at his newest member. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are taking an interest in our human allies. Any bonds formed between us will be beneficial to both in the end.”
Starscream arched an eyebrow. “Playing political games, my liege. I didn’t take you for the sort.”
“Because I come across as an uncouth barbarian?” Despite himself, Megaron grinned. If Starscream could joke, then he was getting more comfortable in Megatron’s presence.
Starscream chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Only at first glance. I’d apologize, but you know it’s true. As honorable as you are, you don’t give off the air of one who’s built his wealth off the misfortunes of others.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, do.” Starscream’s lip curled in a fang-bearing smirk. “Now, Orion. He has something of a regal air about him. If I had to guess, I’d say I know why Crystal City is missing their eldest primeling.”
A sharp one, wasn’t he?
“Well, if that were true, it wouldn’t be my story to tell, now would it?” Megatron cocked his head in what he hoped was teasing and not challenging.
Starscream laughed and it sounded genuine. Comfortable. Not at all anxious. “No, it wouldn’t,” he mused. “So you’ve surrounded yourself by harpies of a higher persuasion, but I’d gather there’s not a political bone in your body.”
“Not at all, you assume correctly.” Megatron raised his feathery brows. “And you?”
Starscream flicked a hand through the air. “Not so much as a drop, thank Adaptus. I don’t know which is more suffocating: the mating my parents tried to force upon me, or the life of caged glitz and glamor.”
Ah, so Starscream was another who’d come to Kaon escaping a forced mating. He’d arrived not long after mating season as well, which meant he must have fled Vos either immediately prior to the beginning of it, or in the midst of it. Which did not paint a pretty picture in the back of Megatron’s mind.
He was not so dense as not to know what happened during mating seasons with those who were force-coupled.
“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” Megatron replied, careful with his words. He never wanted to downplay anyone’s prior experiences. “And you will find that many of the harpies in this flock have fled circumstances similar to your own and Orion’s. I accept any and all kinds and no one harpy is better than the other, bara or smol.”
“I know.” Starscream’s smile softened into something genuine. “It was rumors of the acceptance I might find here that kept me going as I fled Vos.”
Megatron’s core clenched. Both Liege instinct and bara instinct wrangled with sympathy. The urge to protect his flock was consuming, and Megatron had already claimed Starscream as one of his. Like so many others, Megatron wished he could find whoever had caused that dark shadow in Starscream’s eyes and rip their core from their body.
Sometimes, Megatron wondered who truly was the greater evil to the harpies: their own rules and conventions, or the humans.
“You are also welcome to your secrets,” Megatron added, to assuage any possible fear Starscream might carry. “You’re under no obligation to divulge your prior circumstances to anyone here. Soundwave probably already knows but--”
Starscream waved a hand. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned so far, it’s that Soundwave knows all.” He chuckled. “I’m fine with that since he seems capable of holding a secret, though I appreciate the discretion.”
“It is what we do. Though it seems discretion might be pointless in some cases.” Megatron straightened, rolling his shoulders to ease a kink in them. “You’re an observant individual.”
Starscream shrugged. “You have to watch if you want to learn anything. You need to see people to understand them.” He paused and tilted his head. “That pretty smol, by the way. He’s a royal, too. I’d stake my core on it.”
“I’ve many a pretty smol in my flock, you’ll have to be more specific,” Megatron said with a laugh. Though he suspected Starscream was talking about Tracks, who came from a rather prestigious family back in Crystal City.
Starscream tapped his chin. “Hot Rod, of course. Who else?” His lips pulled into a broad grin. “That smol has definitely had some kind of diplomatic experience.”
Megatron blinked. He scrunched his forehead. He tried not to laugh as the urge bubbled inside of him.
“Hot Rod,” he repeated, his tone carefully flat. “The most flamboyant smol in my flock, and you think he’s a royal? Perhaps your observations aren’t as keen as you think they are.”
“Or maybe you’re not as attentive as you think you are,” Starscream retorted, only to flinch and amend with a dip of his head, “my liege.”
Megatron fought back a sigh. “I’m not going to punish you for speaking your mind, Starscream. You’re allowed to do that here.” Well, within reason. He still didn’t care for Ratchet’s occasionally belligerent and challenging tones.
“Old habits die hard,” Starscream replied. One taloned foot dug into the ground, a tension in his stance.
“That I understand.” Megatron straightened and stepped fully back into the doorframe. “I do think you’re mistaken about Hot Rod, however.”
Starscream’s lips curled. “Well, I suppose time will tell. You’re courting him, aren’t you?”
“No.”
Starscream cocked his head. “You’re sure about that?”
“Is that another one of your observations?” Megatron half-expected to feel annoyed, but there was something about the quiet challenge in Starscream’s statements that he approved of. He hoped Starscream held onto this spark, and let it build into a blaze.
A low chuckle emerged from Starscream’s throat. Some of the tension in his feathers eased away. “Not only mine, my liege. You have the entire flock wondering why you haven’t taken that pretty one to nest yet.”
Megatron snorted. “A bunch of nosy tweets is what they are. Clearly, everyone is too bored.” He tapped his chin with a foretalon. “Maybe I need to think of more chores.”
Starscream laughed, genuine and loud. “I think they call that an abuse of power, your lordship.”
Starscream teasing him was perhaps Megatron’s gift for the day. Proof that the smol had grown a little comfortable in Megatron’s presence.
“Sometimes, sacrifices must be made,” Megatron replied with a smirk. He swept down into a low bow. “But I will leave you to your books. As always, feel free to come to me if you have any problems. My door is always open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Starscream swept down into his desk, already reaching for one of the books. “Thank you, my liege.”
Megatron dipped his head again and excused himself, a lighter feeling in his chest. He made his way back to the main walkway, internally debating his next course of action. He started downward. He still needed to locate Soundwave.
“Megatron!”
He turned to see Trailbreaker striding toward him, a smile on the large bara’s face. “Soundwave said you wanted to see me?” He sounded a little out of breath, as though he’d just come back from a flight or from escorting the Gathering team.
Megatron sighed inwardly. He would definitely be having words with Soundwave later.
“Yes, I did.” Megatron gestured for Trailbreaker to join him and the bara fell into step beside him, his arms hanging at his sides. “You’re not busy, are you?”
Trailbreaker shook his head, the glossy black of his feathers catching the sunlight and making them seem more colorful. “No, I just got back from escort duty. I thought I might peek in on today’s training session later.”
“Good choice.” Megatron smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. How to apologize when Trailbreaker didn’t even know he should be offended? “You’ve been here, what, five years?”
“Almost six!” Trailbreaker’s grin brightened even further. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks again, for taking me in and all. I know you didn’t have to. But it’s nice, you know, to feel like I actually belong somewhere.”
Trailbreaker was from a small clan on the outskirts of Uraya. The flock was very insular, as far as Megatron knew, and Trailbreaker had to sneak his way to freedom. Soundwave knew more details, of course, but Trailbreaker hadn’t been outwardly forthcoming.
Megatron nodded. “Then you’re happy here?”
Trailbreaker’s smile could have lit the central atrium for a week. “Yes, sir!” he said, and his feathers ruffled. “Sometimes, it’s a little overwhelming being able to choose, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
A relief.
Megatron tilted his head. “And what about romance? Is there anyone here you’ve considered courting?”
Trailbreaker flushed. He ducked his head as though to make himself smaller, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Actually, um, there’s this smol in Nyon. He works the supply depot we trade with and uh….” He trailed off, the flush deepening, making his brown eyes darken in hue.
“Oh, I see.”
Nyon was one of the few aeries willing to trade with Megatron’s unusual flock of outcasts. They might disapprove in general of how Megatron’s flock was managed, but they liked what Kaon had to offer too much to turn them away. Megatron had welcomed a couple of harpies from Nyon, not because they were unhappy at home, but because they were curious.
Both harpies had chosen to stay. Both had mated within Kaon, though they visited home regularly, and that further improved relations between the two flocks.
“Yeah.” Trailbreaker coughed into his fist and tangled his talons together. “He’s nice and I make him laugh. Or at least I think I do. I’m still working on the courage to see if he’d go for a flight with me.”
Megatron’s smile was soft and genuine. “Who wouldn’t, Trailbreaker? You’d make someone a very wonderful mate. They’d be a lucky harpy.”
Trailbreaker’s blush deepened. “Thank you, sir.” He looked at Megatron a bit nervously. “It’s nice to be able to choose, you know? Back in Ultris, there wasn’t a lot of that. I couldn’t pick anything. Not my role in the flock. Not my friends. Not my mate. Couldn’t even pick what I wanted to eat.”
Guilt welled up in Megatron’s throat. “Not many choices then.”
“None at all.” Trailbreaker exhaled softly and tilted his head back, looking up at the canopy. “But it’s different here. I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough for letting me live here.”
Megatron shook his head and drew to a stop. They’d walked all the way to the ground floor as they talked. “You have nothing to thank me for. This is the freedom you should have always had.”
“Most leaders don’t actually think that, you know?” Trailbreaker chuckled. “But I’m glad that you do. Thanks, sir.”
Megatron dipped his head. “You’re welcome.”
“Was there anything else or…?”
An apology would seem odd at this point, wouldn’t it? Trailbreaker had no idea the offense Megatron had committed. And given Trailbreaker’s temperament, he’d be forgiving Megatron before he’d managed to get the full apology out. No, best to make his amends with the one he’d truly offended.
“No, I just like to check in with my flock from time to time.” Megatron clapped Trailbreaker on the shoulder, and the large bara all but puffed with pride at the gesture. “Though if you could point me in Soundwave’s direction, that would be enormously helpful.”
Trailbreaker laughed aloud. “He’s good at hiding, isn’t he, sir?”
“Especially when he doesn’t want to be found.”
Trailbreaker laughed again. “Well, when I last saw him, he was heading to the kitchens, probably for a late breakfast.”
Knowing Soundwave, that was likely. He tended to put others before himself: his siblings first and foremost, and often Megatron as well. Megatron often wondered if Soundwave had ever eaten a hot meal in his entire life. Or even a complete meal at that, one where he didn’t share bits and bites with one of his siblings.
“I’ll catch him there then. Thank you, Trailbreaker.” Megatron tipped his head in a little bow. “As you were.”
Trailbreaker sketched a loose approximation of a salute at him and jogged off, his short, yet broad tail bobbing behind him. He really would make some lucky harpy a fine mate. Megatron sincerely hoped this smol in Ultris returned Trailbreaker’s affections. He deserved to be happy.
All of Megatron’s flock deserved it, to be fair.
Megatron turned and headed back to the ramp, ascending it to the second level, and nodding in greeting to the others he passed. It was mid-morning by now. Clean up from breakfast would be finished, and the lunch preparers wouldn’t be in for another hour yet, though they were probably off somewhere, squabbling over what to serve.
Whirl would win. He always did.
Megatron ducked into the large common room, which was still and quiet. He passed by the massive table with benches enough to seat every harpy in his flock, and slipped into the adjoining preparation room. This was where he found Soundwave, perched at the island table in the middle, Frenzy sitting next to him, his feet dangling in mid-air as the stool was far too tall.
“Morning, boss!” Frenzy said cheerfully, around a mouthful of melon, flecks of which burst out of his mouth as he chewed with his mouth open.
“Good morning, Frenzy. I thought you didn’t like melon,” Megatron said as he moved to take a seat across from Soundwave, fixing his Speaker with a look. He folded his hands on the counter, watching Soundwave carefully spoon rolled oats and honey into his mouth.
Only here, in the privacy of the empty preparation room, did Soundwave feel comfortable eating without his mask. He’d set it aside, and there was nothing to hide the scars around his neck, the raw patches where feathers had been torn free and never grew back. Marks of a chain, human-made.
They never failed to make a ripple of anger surge through Megatron. If it weren’t for the fact most of the humans responsible were dead, he’d never manage to swallow it down.
“It’s grown on me!” Frenzy chirped and noisily bit into another section of melon, spraying juice in all directions.
“Tastes change,” Soundwave rasped, his voice sounding rougher today, and worse than it had this morning. “Manners, Frenzy.”
“Awww.” Frenzy kicked his legs, but the next bite was far more delicate. “You take the fun outta everythin’.”
Soundwave ignored him, his pale, pale eyes lifting to Megatron. “Trailbreaker find you?”
“Yes, you meddlesome little spy, he did.” Megatron braced his elbows on the edge of the table. “And point taken.”
Soundwave’s lips curled into a small smile. He spooned another bite of oats into his mouth.
“It’s not the only thing you’ve meddled in today,” Megatron continued conversationally. He reached for the bowl of fruit in the middle, spearing a peach with his talon. “You did that on purpose.”
Frenzy snickered into his melon, his eyes sparkling with humor.
Soundwave, however, was entirely bland. “Specifics necessary, Liege.”
“Stop. You know you don’t have to say that.” Not in general, but Soundwave wouldn’t relent on that, so Megatron at least got him to agree to not using the title in private.
Soundwave spooned in another mouthful of oats. The spoon made a scraping noise as he bumped it against his teeth.
Megatron sighed and fiddled with the peach, rolling it between his fingers. “I told you to reassign Hot Rod, and you put him with Orion. If that wasn’t deliberate, I’ll eat this peach pit.”
Frenzy scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, smearing melon juice everywhere. “I hear they’re tasty roasted over an open fire.”
Soundwave rested the spoon in the bowl. “Hot Rod’s experience is acceptable, and his comprehension of multiple languages makes him ideal for Orion’s assistant.”
Megatron’s eyes narrowed. This was all news to him. He hadn’t even known Hot Rod spoke anything other than their common tongue. “And yet he was first assigned to the Cradle.”
“Orion didn’t need an assistant then. The Cradle did.”
Megatron twitched. “You’re playing semantics with me.”
“Reassignment requested?” Soundwave asked as he picked up the spoon again, stirring it through the rolled oats.
Frenzy’s massive grin was hidden only by the curve of melon pressed between his lips. His eyes bounced back and forth between his brother and Megatron as though it were an interesting battle. And perhaps it was.
Megatron thumbed the peach. “Do you think I don’t know how devious you are, by now?”
Frenzy erupted into a giggle. “Boss, there ain’t nowhere bro can put hot stuff where you won’t see him.”
Megatron reared back. “That’s not--”
“Lie.” A single word, clipped and pointed, before Soundwave spooned oats into his mouth with a deliberate motion.
“His happiness is my primary concern,” Megatron corrected through gritted teeth.
Frenzy dropped the empty melon rind to the table. “Hah. If that were true, then you’d have rutted him already.”
“Frenzy.”
The small harpy’s smirk was utterly unrepentant. “Got it, bro. Being quiet now.”
If he actually succeeded, it would be a miracle. Frenzy snatched a handful of candied pecans out of the bowl near Soundwave’s hand and shoved them into his mouth.
Soundwave rested his spoon in the now empty bowl, affixing Megatron with a level look, his pale eyes unerringly finding Megatron. “You will temper yourself, my liege.”
The use of the honorific was purposeful this time. Megatron knew Soundwave well enough to recognize that by now. He’d been rebuked.
His gaze lowered. “I will apologize, yes.”
Soundwave nodded and reached across the table, fingers searching the fruit bowl before selecting a plum and removing it. “Someday, you will realize that few secrets are worth the price paid.”
Megatron snorted and bit into his peach, the juices immediately soaking his mouth. “That’ll be the day you realize being cryptic is utterly useless.” He spoke with his mouth full. But he could do that.
Soundwave’s lips curved into a slight smile of amusement.
Frenzy loudly crunched on his candied pecans, wriggling in his chair. He looked as though he might burst if he couldn’t speak, but he still obeyed his eldest brother. Or adopted brother, rather.
In truth, only Ravage was biologically related to Soundwave. He’d adopted Frenzy and Rumble from a couple who believed far too much in the superstitions about twins. He’d rescued Laserbeak and Buzzsaw from the same humans who’d scarred him. If anyone were to ask, however, Soundwave would always reply, without a hitch, ‘they are my brothers’.
To him, their actual blood didn’t matter. They were his brothers, his siblings, the beat of his core. He would die to protect each and every one of them.
Megatron slipped off his stool. “Then I leave you to it. Assign Hot Rod wherever you think is best. I won’t interfere again.”
Soundwave carefully licked at the plum, eating without mess unlike both Frenzy and Megatron. “Yes, my liege.”
“Bye, Boss!”
Frenzy’s cheerful waving followed Megatron out the door. He paused only long enough to drop the cleaned peach pit in a gathering basket. They collected all of the stone fruit pits and crushed them for various recipes and art projects. Waste not, want not.
The sweetness of the peach lingered on Megatron’s tongue. He allowed himself a moment to ponder what to do next before he trudged back to the ground floor and the mountain of paperwork no doubt waiting for him. It never ceased to amaze him how many documents a small flock could generate.
There was no helping it.
Megatron ducked into his office, though he left the door pinned open. He welcomed any and all distractions or interruptions so long as they would save him from this most onerous task.
He maneuvered behind his desk, sat heavily down in his stool, and glared at the neat assemblage of scrolls and thick paper. Thick-er, he should say. They’d quickly discovered that using the traditional paper stock of the university was a poor choice. It was too thin, too delicate, too easily punctured by sharp harpy talons. Now they used something a bit heavier. Card stock, he believed Professor Shin had called it.
Megatron closed his eyes, put his hand on the desk, and grabbed the first thing his fingers touched. Which, when he peeked, turned out to be a supply reconciliation list.
He’d only managed to select the single dullest piece of paper on his desk. But of course.
Megatron sighed and got to work.
Some time later, which felt like days but couldn’t have been more than two hours at best, Megatron had tallied all of the discrepancies. He frowned. The perfect number of discrepancies, of course, was zero. But here lately, that number had climbed from two to seven to fifteen.
Either the humans were shorting them on trades, or someone in Megatron’s flock was stealing from the aerie. Both options were plausible. He’d had a problem with thieves before, but it was usually because he’d just accepted another wanderer from a flock with strict, near-abusive rules. Those wayward harpies would steal food and hide it, convinced they wouldn’t be fed, for example.
That type of behavior was forgiven.
Megatron suspected that wasn’t the case here. The missing supplies weren’t for mere survival. There were solar batteries missing, for Adaptus’ sake. As far as Megatron knew, his was the only flock with decent enough relations with humans to even use their technology.
Knuckles rapped on his doorframe. Megatron looked up, utterly relieved at the interruption, to find Hot Rod ducking into his office, his arms laden with documents.
Well, this wasn’t awkward.
“Afternoon,” Megatron greeted, deciding to aim for casual. He leaned back, pretending he hadn’t been hunched over his desk like a fledgling being forced to learn arithmetic.
Hot Rod dipped his head deferentially. Of the sunny smile he usually wore, there was no sign. “Orion told me to bring these to you. He offered the armload of papers. “And also to tell you ‘nice try.’” He frowned in confusion.
Megatron huffed a laugh and accepted the thick sheaf of documents. Foiled again. “Egg heavy, and I still can’t get anything past him,” he murmured.
Hot Rod blinked. “Beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” Megatron shook his head and looked down at the papers, leafing through them quickly to remind himself what they were. “Thank you for bringing them.”
“Well, assisting Orion is my duty now.” Hot Rod dipped his head in a nod. He turned to go.
Megatron hesitated for all of a second before Soundwave’s chastisement echoed in the back of his mind. “Hot Rod.”
The beautiful smol turned back around, his face carefully neutral and his energy contained. He’d always bounced into Megatron’s presence before. He’d always had a smile, a tease, a flirt to offer. The sudden reverse course made the guilt settle in even deeper.
Megatron coughed to clear his throat. “Are you… happy assisting Orion?”
Hot Rod blinked. His hands disappeared as he clasped them behind his back. He bounced on the heels of his feet. “It’s a duty I’m suited for,” he said as though carefully choosing his words.
Damn.
Megatron had massively erred.
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk. “That is not what I asked. Does it make you happy?”
Hot Rod tilted his head. “I’m not sure what answer you want, my liege.”
“The truth would suffice,” Megatron said with a sigh and rubbed at his forehead. “This is my fault, and I apologize. My Speaker has seen fit to inform me that I’ve overstepped, and right now, I’m seeing how right he is.”
Feathers whispered together as Hot Rod shifted his weight. “I enjoy working with Orion.”
“And you enjoyed your shifts in the Cradle, too?” Megatron asked as he peered up at the flame-colored smol, who’s expression gradually shifted from confusing to understanding.
Hot Rod nodded and bounced again, a smile finally gracing his lips. “Yes, sir. Honestly, I’ll go wherever you assign me, but it’s just...” He paused and nibbled on his bottom lip, uncertainty bleeding in his body language.
Megatron gestured for him to continue. “Go on. I’m not angry at you, I promise. My ire is solely directed inward.” At himself, for being such a controlling fool. He treated no other harpy in his flock like this. Why did he assume he knew what was best for Hot Rod as well?
Hot Rod’s feathers fluttered. “I like doing a lot of things,” he mumbled quietly and his gaze fell, color staining his cheeks a pretty pink. “I just don’t, you know, want to be told I can’t do it.”
Fair enough.
Megatron stood, slowly however, he didn’t wish to alarm Hot Rod. “I apologize,” he said, and oh how it burned. He hated admitting when he was wrong.
His only consolation was that it came as a fair surprise. Hot Rod’s eyes were big and wide, bright blue and lovely. His jaw dropped just a little, freeing the bottom lip which he’d gnawed in his anxiety, making it pink and swollen.
Megatron wanted to kiss him.
“There are times I forget what it means to be Liege and what an honor that brings me,” Megatron continued, his tone shifting to gruff, if only to hide the way his core burned at the thought of bringing Hot Rod to his nest. “You are, of course, free to choose whichever duty you like best. Let Soundwave know your preferences, and he’ll adjust the schedules accordingly.”
Hot Rod’s feathers fluttered. “Really?” He sounded almost breathless, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Megatron swallowed thickly and sat back down, mindlessly shuffling through the papers on his desk. “Yes. My only wish is for those I lead to be happy. Included in that is letting them decide their own fate.”
“I… thank you, my liege.” Hot Rod broke off from what seemed to be the start of an excited babble, and shifted into a more mature tone. He dipped his head in a low nod. “I promise that no matter what I choose, I will give my all to it.”
“I’m already certain you will.” Megatron inhaled quietly and steeled himself, folding one hand over the other. “There is one other apology I owe you.”
Hot Rod blinked. “Oh?”
Heat stole into Megatron’s face, and he wished he could blame the inappropriate thoughts of kissing Hot Rod. “It was wrong of me to try and foist your attention onto another. Not only was it rude to you and your feelings, but an insult to Trailbreaker as well, who I was recently reminded came to us from a flock that arranged matings.” Shame was bitter and thick on his tongue.
“It’s okay,” Hot Rod said, though his voice was soft, and his eyes were everywhere but on Megatron.
He shook his head. “No, it’s not--”
“Yes, it is.” Hot Rod inhaled loud enough for Megatron to hear it, as though gathering his courage. “I guess it’s a truth I didn’t want to hear.” His crest feathers went limp, laying flat against his head. “Maybe it was the cruel thing to do, but it was effective.”
Ouch. Megatron flinched, though he doubted that had been Hot Rod’s intention.
Hot Rod’s lip curled into a smile, thin and cracked though it was. He bowed again, more shallow this time, and backstepped toward the door. “I understand now,” he said and spread his hands, the long feathers sweeping across the floor. “And you can rest assured that I will never be a bother to you again.”
Megatron winced. “That’s not what I considered you.”
“You did,” Hot Rod said, and his smile was hurt now. He lingered in the doorway, as though he couldn’t wait to escape. “And that’s on me. For being an idiot. So I accept your apology, though I deserved it, and uh, yeah. We’re fine. Everything’s fine. You can lead in peace, and I can… turn my sights elsewhere.”
He paused, nose twitching. “Not on Trailbreaker though. He’s sweet and charming, but I’m pretty sure he’s been giving Skybright over in Nyon the dopiest looks lately.”
“Well, I’m relieved you’re pursuing your own happiness,” Megatron replied and deftly ignored the disappointment ringing through his core. “And I’m sure by now Orion is missing you.”
Hot Rod chuckled. “Yeah. Probably.” He paused, his gaze on Megatron lingering as though he intended to say something else before deciding against it. “See you at dinner,” he said, and then he was gone, leaving Megatron alone with his paperwork, including the stack Orion had returned to him.
Megatron sat back and waited for the feeling of relief to wash over him. He waited and he waited, unhappy with the unease that settled within him instead. As if he’d not only ignored an opportunity, but threw it in the trash.
Megatron buried his face behind his hand and tossed his quill onto the desk. Sometimes, the hardest thing about being Liege was accepting the kind of life it gave him and the hard choices he had to make.
***
a/n: Complications abound! Is it truly over for Megatron and Hot Rod, or do more circumstances lurk beneath the surface? Tune in next week to find out. ;)
Universe: Flights of Fancy
Characters: Megatron/Rodimus, Soundwave, Shockwave/Orion Pax, Drift/Perceptor, Starscream, Ensemble
Rating: M
Enticements: Harpyformers AU, Sexual Content, Romance, Unrequited Love, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: If asked, Liege Megatron of the Kaon Aerie would say his life was perfect. With a content, growing flock to manage, he had nothing to worry about. Loneliness was part of a Liege’s life, he’d decided. Until the bright-spirited Hot Rod comes along, determined to be the exception to the rule.
Chapter Four
Morning arrived, and Megatron didn’t need Soundwave to wake him. He’d slept very little and was already at his smaller, private desk when his second slipped into his nest, Buzzsaw perched atop his shoulder. Laserbeak was no doubt lurking somewhere nearby. The smallest twins were rarely seen one without the other.
“Eager to work?” Soundwave asked.
“Eager for a distraction,” Megatron replied with a little sigh. Movement in his peripheral vision alerted him to Soundwave sliding a small plate onto his desk.
Breakfast was served. Megatron didn’t ask Soundwave to do this, but his second had taken it upon himself, and now it was something of a habit. Candied pecans, a bowl of blackberries, and a dish of rolled oats.
Comfort food.
Megatron slanted a look at Soundwave. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“You still grieve.” Soundwave lingered, his head tilted. “And you did not sleep.”
“I did. A few hours.” Megatron snagged a handful of pecans and threw them into his mouth. He’d spent a good portion of the night tossing and turning in a nest-berth that felt far too large. “It was enough. Is there anything urgent today?”
“No.”
“Pity.” He crunched noisily on the pecans, rapping his talons on the desktop. “Did you find someone to assist Orion?”
“Affirmative.”
“Good, good.” Megatron exhaled audibly and gave Soundwave another look. “Are you happy here, Soundwave?”
A small laugh rose from his second’s chest. “Affirmative.” Soundwave rested his hand on Megatron’s shoulder, unerringly finding it despite not being able to see him, the weight warm and welcome. “Question strange. What happened?”
Megatron rubbed at his forehead. “Hot Rod joined me on a flight last night. I may have offended him when I suggested he seek another mate.” He lowered his hand and sighed. “My intentions were good. I want him to be happy. I need him to realize it will never be with me.”
Soundwave made a non-committal noise. “Cruel, but potentially effective,” he said, and there was chastisement in his tone. “However, the core is not so easily swayed. You, of all harpies, should know this.”
Yes. Yes, he did.
Another sigh escaped him. “Should I apologize?”
“Explanation would also be helpful,” Soundwave said and his hand slipped free of Megatron’s shoulder. “But apologies are always welcome.”
He was right, of course. But then, Soundwave usually was.
He excused himself afterward, leaving Megatron to consume his breakfast as he mused. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t entirely unopposed to Hot Rod. Another time, another situation, different circumstances, and Megatron had no doubt he would have chased after Hot Rod on his own.
It would be easier if Hot Rod wasn’t always so present. Always around, in Megatron’s periphery, within reach and enticing.
Megatron scrubbed the heel of his palm down his face. He sighed. Enough brooding. He had work to do. Rather than sit in his nest and castigate himself for repeated mistakes, he could make use of himself.
He rose from his desk and departed his nest, though he briefly floundered. What to do? Without conscious decision, he turned left, following the curve of the aerie toward the archives and the small office connected to them.
Soundwave’s counsel was invaluable to him. But he could be too pragmatic for his own good. Megatron could use the advice of another, and times like these, there was only one he could rely on for the point of view he desired.
Despite yesterday’s revelation, Megatron was not at all surprised to find the tapestry for Orion’s workroom pinned open. He should be in his nest, cuddled up with Shockwave, but if he wanted to work, Megatron wouldn’t stop him. He would ensure that assistance was available if Orion wanted it, but he couldn’t force it.
Megatron braced himself and ducked through door. “Orion, I hate to bother you but...” His words trailed off as he realized Orion was not alone. “Oh, I apologize. I did not realize you were busy.”
“I’m not.” Orion treated him to a smile and tilted his head toward Hot Rod. “Thank you for the assistant, by the way. Though I’m not sure I’ll need one.”
“Assistant?” Megatron echoed.
Hot Rod straightened from where he stood at Orion’s side, peering over his shoulder at the parchment spread across Orion’s desk. “You told Soundwave to reassign me, sir,” he said, his tone perfunctory and polite. “This is it.”
Oh, but he and Soundwave would have words later. A warning would have been nice.
“I see,” Megatron said.
“Did you have something you wanted to ask me?” Orion asked, attracting Megatron’s attention once more. He was all but glowing this morning, happiness radiating from him in nearly visible ways.
Megatron shook his head. “Nothing that can’t wait.” He managed a smile for his dearest friend, and couldn’t stop himself from slanting a look at Hot Rod.
The pretty smol ignored him. His attention returned to the parchments on the desk as though they were the most fascinating item in the aerie.
“I’ll leave you to your work,” Megatron continued as he backed toward the door.
“Are you sure?” The smallest of frowns curved Orion’s lips. He looked concerned now, brow drawing downward, and that just wouldn’t do.
Megatron forced his smile into something reassuring. “Yes. I am. Hot Rod, good luck.”
“Thank you, my liege.” Hot Rod dipped his head into a small nod. “Hopefully, this will better suit.” His words were polite, but something in them cut like the sharp slash of an angry talon.
Megatron concealed his wince and made his escape. Emotion boiled up inside him, a mixture of shock and outrage and guilt. He must have really hurt Hot Rod, judging by the smol’s behavior. Hot Rod hadn’t spared so much as a smile for Megatron.
Spinning on a tarsal, Megatron headed for Soundwave’s office. This early in the morning, it was the best place to find his Speaker, if Soundwave wasn’t on one of his many self-assigned tasks. They needed to have a chat, it seemed.
No such luck, however. The door was pulled back. The desk was neat and tidy. There was not feather nor talon of Soundwave inside. Not even a sibling lurked in the sun-dappled shadows.
There was no point in wandering around looking for Soundwave. Megatron was better off attending to his own duties and checking back for Soundwave later.
Perhaps he ought to check in on Starscream.
Megatron climbed to the levels reserved for residences. Most of the nests were located here, though a few were also sporadically placed around the aerie. Like Perceptor and Drift, who were as near to the canopy as one could get without being above cover. While Maximus and Rung resided on the lowest floor, with the former preferring solid ground beneath his feet.
Starscream had chosen a nest somewhere around here. Though Megatron would check with Perceptor next if he couldn’t find the newest addition to his flock. He also reminded himself to see what Soundwave had learned, if anything, and what he would share. Megatron’s flock was allowed its secrets, but Soundwave still knew all.
The door to Starscream’s nest was pinned open, and he’d even hung a charming little sign above the top of it, his name carefully inked on a sanded board. Drift’s work, if Megatron could hazard a guess. Megatron rapped his knuckles on the thick knot of wood framing Starscream’s door, remembering well how Starscream had shied away from even the most casual of touches.
“Starscream?”
“Come in!”
Permission granted, Megatron ducked inside, only needing to stoop a little to accommodate his larger height. Not all nests were built the same, after all.
Starscream had opted for the large nest-berth in the center, with the rest of the nest arranged concentrically around it. Megatron spotted a desk, a washbasin, a book shelf, and a small dresser built into the woven branches. Starscream’s nest was also near to the thick trunk of the massive tree that held their home. The curtain to his balcony was wide open, letting in a nice breeze.
“My liege!” Starscream blinked in surprise as he turned away from his bookcase with an armful of small books – obviously human-made. “Is something wrong?”
Megatron, well aware of Starscream’s personal space issues, elected to linger near the door. He didn’t want to intrude any more than was necessary. “No. I merely wanted to check on you. Make sure you were getting settled and that there were no problems.”
“Oh.” Starscream adjusted his grip on the books. “Well, uh, I’m fine. I like it here. Everyone’s pretty helpful, and it’s nice to have my own space.”
Megatron nodded. “That’s good to hear. So no issues?”
“None at all.” Starscream moved to his desk, dumping the books onto it with audible thumps. “I help Perceptor with his research when I can. I’ve looked in on Drift’s training sessions. But I do spend a lot of time at the university.” He paused and gave Megatron a nervous look. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
Megatron fought back a chuckle. “Yes. As I said before, we don’t restrict contact with the humans, but for your own safety, we do like to know when you leave and return, so we know if we should be concerned or not.” He leaned against the door frame. “We are friendly with the university humans, but because of that, others know that the harpies here are… acclimated to humans. There have been incidents.”
Starscream nibbled on his bottom lip. “Incidents?”
“Thieves and the like. Attempts to abduct harpies outside the aerie. It’s why we are so insistent on security and guards for the Gathering,” Megatron explained and while it pained him to see Starscream flinch, he hoped that it helped the smol understand how important it was.
Megatron had few rules for his flock. Every last one of them were designed for the safety and comfort of everyone. He wouldn’t deny Starscream the opportunity to pursue his dreams, and any member of his flock was free to leave at any time. All Megatron needed to know was whether or not someone could be considered missing.
Starscream’s throat bobbed. “I see.” He rested one hand on his books, and Megatron hated to see the small tremble in them. “Then it is reasonable to keep one informed of my plans. I’ll always tell Perceptor when I leave and when I expect to return.”
“Thank you.” Megatron smiled at his newest member. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are taking an interest in our human allies. Any bonds formed between us will be beneficial to both in the end.”
Starscream arched an eyebrow. “Playing political games, my liege. I didn’t take you for the sort.”
“Because I come across as an uncouth barbarian?” Despite himself, Megaron grinned. If Starscream could joke, then he was getting more comfortable in Megatron’s presence.
Starscream chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Only at first glance. I’d apologize, but you know it’s true. As honorable as you are, you don’t give off the air of one who’s built his wealth off the misfortunes of others.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, do.” Starscream’s lip curled in a fang-bearing smirk. “Now, Orion. He has something of a regal air about him. If I had to guess, I’d say I know why Crystal City is missing their eldest primeling.”
A sharp one, wasn’t he?
“Well, if that were true, it wouldn’t be my story to tell, now would it?” Megatron cocked his head in what he hoped was teasing and not challenging.
Starscream laughed and it sounded genuine. Comfortable. Not at all anxious. “No, it wouldn’t,” he mused. “So you’ve surrounded yourself by harpies of a higher persuasion, but I’d gather there’s not a political bone in your body.”
“Not at all, you assume correctly.” Megatron raised his feathery brows. “And you?”
Starscream flicked a hand through the air. “Not so much as a drop, thank Adaptus. I don’t know which is more suffocating: the mating my parents tried to force upon me, or the life of caged glitz and glamor.”
Ah, so Starscream was another who’d come to Kaon escaping a forced mating. He’d arrived not long after mating season as well, which meant he must have fled Vos either immediately prior to the beginning of it, or in the midst of it. Which did not paint a pretty picture in the back of Megatron’s mind.
He was not so dense as not to know what happened during mating seasons with those who were force-coupled.
“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” Megatron replied, careful with his words. He never wanted to downplay anyone’s prior experiences. “And you will find that many of the harpies in this flock have fled circumstances similar to your own and Orion’s. I accept any and all kinds and no one harpy is better than the other, bara or smol.”
“I know.” Starscream’s smile softened into something genuine. “It was rumors of the acceptance I might find here that kept me going as I fled Vos.”
Megatron’s core clenched. Both Liege instinct and bara instinct wrangled with sympathy. The urge to protect his flock was consuming, and Megatron had already claimed Starscream as one of his. Like so many others, Megatron wished he could find whoever had caused that dark shadow in Starscream’s eyes and rip their core from their body.
Sometimes, Megatron wondered who truly was the greater evil to the harpies: their own rules and conventions, or the humans.
“You are also welcome to your secrets,” Megatron added, to assuage any possible fear Starscream might carry. “You’re under no obligation to divulge your prior circumstances to anyone here. Soundwave probably already knows but--”
Starscream waved a hand. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned so far, it’s that Soundwave knows all.” He chuckled. “I’m fine with that since he seems capable of holding a secret, though I appreciate the discretion.”
“It is what we do. Though it seems discretion might be pointless in some cases.” Megatron straightened, rolling his shoulders to ease a kink in them. “You’re an observant individual.”
Starscream shrugged. “You have to watch if you want to learn anything. You need to see people to understand them.” He paused and tilted his head. “That pretty smol, by the way. He’s a royal, too. I’d stake my core on it.”
“I’ve many a pretty smol in my flock, you’ll have to be more specific,” Megatron said with a laugh. Though he suspected Starscream was talking about Tracks, who came from a rather prestigious family back in Crystal City.
Starscream tapped his chin. “Hot Rod, of course. Who else?” His lips pulled into a broad grin. “That smol has definitely had some kind of diplomatic experience.”
Megatron blinked. He scrunched his forehead. He tried not to laugh as the urge bubbled inside of him.
“Hot Rod,” he repeated, his tone carefully flat. “The most flamboyant smol in my flock, and you think he’s a royal? Perhaps your observations aren’t as keen as you think they are.”
“Or maybe you’re not as attentive as you think you are,” Starscream retorted, only to flinch and amend with a dip of his head, “my liege.”
Megatron fought back a sigh. “I’m not going to punish you for speaking your mind, Starscream. You’re allowed to do that here.” Well, within reason. He still didn’t care for Ratchet’s occasionally belligerent and challenging tones.
“Old habits die hard,” Starscream replied. One taloned foot dug into the ground, a tension in his stance.
“That I understand.” Megatron straightened and stepped fully back into the doorframe. “I do think you’re mistaken about Hot Rod, however.”
Starscream’s lips curled. “Well, I suppose time will tell. You’re courting him, aren’t you?”
“No.”
Starscream cocked his head. “You’re sure about that?”
“Is that another one of your observations?” Megatron half-expected to feel annoyed, but there was something about the quiet challenge in Starscream’s statements that he approved of. He hoped Starscream held onto this spark, and let it build into a blaze.
A low chuckle emerged from Starscream’s throat. Some of the tension in his feathers eased away. “Not only mine, my liege. You have the entire flock wondering why you haven’t taken that pretty one to nest yet.”
Megatron snorted. “A bunch of nosy tweets is what they are. Clearly, everyone is too bored.” He tapped his chin with a foretalon. “Maybe I need to think of more chores.”
Starscream laughed, genuine and loud. “I think they call that an abuse of power, your lordship.”
Starscream teasing him was perhaps Megatron’s gift for the day. Proof that the smol had grown a little comfortable in Megatron’s presence.
“Sometimes, sacrifices must be made,” Megatron replied with a smirk. He swept down into a low bow. “But I will leave you to your books. As always, feel free to come to me if you have any problems. My door is always open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Starscream swept down into his desk, already reaching for one of the books. “Thank you, my liege.”
Megatron dipped his head again and excused himself, a lighter feeling in his chest. He made his way back to the main walkway, internally debating his next course of action. He started downward. He still needed to locate Soundwave.
“Megatron!”
He turned to see Trailbreaker striding toward him, a smile on the large bara’s face. “Soundwave said you wanted to see me?” He sounded a little out of breath, as though he’d just come back from a flight or from escorting the Gathering team.
Megatron sighed inwardly. He would definitely be having words with Soundwave later.
“Yes, I did.” Megatron gestured for Trailbreaker to join him and the bara fell into step beside him, his arms hanging at his sides. “You’re not busy, are you?”
Trailbreaker shook his head, the glossy black of his feathers catching the sunlight and making them seem more colorful. “No, I just got back from escort duty. I thought I might peek in on today’s training session later.”
“Good choice.” Megatron smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. How to apologize when Trailbreaker didn’t even know he should be offended? “You’ve been here, what, five years?”
“Almost six!” Trailbreaker’s grin brightened even further. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks again, for taking me in and all. I know you didn’t have to. But it’s nice, you know, to feel like I actually belong somewhere.”
Trailbreaker was from a small clan on the outskirts of Uraya. The flock was very insular, as far as Megatron knew, and Trailbreaker had to sneak his way to freedom. Soundwave knew more details, of course, but Trailbreaker hadn’t been outwardly forthcoming.
Megatron nodded. “Then you’re happy here?”
Trailbreaker’s smile could have lit the central atrium for a week. “Yes, sir!” he said, and his feathers ruffled. “Sometimes, it’s a little overwhelming being able to choose, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
A relief.
Megatron tilted his head. “And what about romance? Is there anyone here you’ve considered courting?”
Trailbreaker flushed. He ducked his head as though to make himself smaller, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Actually, um, there’s this smol in Nyon. He works the supply depot we trade with and uh….” He trailed off, the flush deepening, making his brown eyes darken in hue.
“Oh, I see.”
Nyon was one of the few aeries willing to trade with Megatron’s unusual flock of outcasts. They might disapprove in general of how Megatron’s flock was managed, but they liked what Kaon had to offer too much to turn them away. Megatron had welcomed a couple of harpies from Nyon, not because they were unhappy at home, but because they were curious.
Both harpies had chosen to stay. Both had mated within Kaon, though they visited home regularly, and that further improved relations between the two flocks.
“Yeah.” Trailbreaker coughed into his fist and tangled his talons together. “He’s nice and I make him laugh. Or at least I think I do. I’m still working on the courage to see if he’d go for a flight with me.”
Megatron’s smile was soft and genuine. “Who wouldn’t, Trailbreaker? You’d make someone a very wonderful mate. They’d be a lucky harpy.”
Trailbreaker’s blush deepened. “Thank you, sir.” He looked at Megatron a bit nervously. “It’s nice to be able to choose, you know? Back in Ultris, there wasn’t a lot of that. I couldn’t pick anything. Not my role in the flock. Not my friends. Not my mate. Couldn’t even pick what I wanted to eat.”
Guilt welled up in Megatron’s throat. “Not many choices then.”
“None at all.” Trailbreaker exhaled softly and tilted his head back, looking up at the canopy. “But it’s different here. I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough for letting me live here.”
Megatron shook his head and drew to a stop. They’d walked all the way to the ground floor as they talked. “You have nothing to thank me for. This is the freedom you should have always had.”
“Most leaders don’t actually think that, you know?” Trailbreaker chuckled. “But I’m glad that you do. Thanks, sir.”
Megatron dipped his head. “You’re welcome.”
“Was there anything else or…?”
An apology would seem odd at this point, wouldn’t it? Trailbreaker had no idea the offense Megatron had committed. And given Trailbreaker’s temperament, he’d be forgiving Megatron before he’d managed to get the full apology out. No, best to make his amends with the one he’d truly offended.
“No, I just like to check in with my flock from time to time.” Megatron clapped Trailbreaker on the shoulder, and the large bara all but puffed with pride at the gesture. “Though if you could point me in Soundwave’s direction, that would be enormously helpful.”
Trailbreaker laughed aloud. “He’s good at hiding, isn’t he, sir?”
“Especially when he doesn’t want to be found.”
Trailbreaker laughed again. “Well, when I last saw him, he was heading to the kitchens, probably for a late breakfast.”
Knowing Soundwave, that was likely. He tended to put others before himself: his siblings first and foremost, and often Megatron as well. Megatron often wondered if Soundwave had ever eaten a hot meal in his entire life. Or even a complete meal at that, one where he didn’t share bits and bites with one of his siblings.
“I’ll catch him there then. Thank you, Trailbreaker.” Megatron tipped his head in a little bow. “As you were.”
Trailbreaker sketched a loose approximation of a salute at him and jogged off, his short, yet broad tail bobbing behind him. He really would make some lucky harpy a fine mate. Megatron sincerely hoped this smol in Ultris returned Trailbreaker’s affections. He deserved to be happy.
All of Megatron’s flock deserved it, to be fair.
Megatron turned and headed back to the ramp, ascending it to the second level, and nodding in greeting to the others he passed. It was mid-morning by now. Clean up from breakfast would be finished, and the lunch preparers wouldn’t be in for another hour yet, though they were probably off somewhere, squabbling over what to serve.
Whirl would win. He always did.
Megatron ducked into the large common room, which was still and quiet. He passed by the massive table with benches enough to seat every harpy in his flock, and slipped into the adjoining preparation room. This was where he found Soundwave, perched at the island table in the middle, Frenzy sitting next to him, his feet dangling in mid-air as the stool was far too tall.
“Morning, boss!” Frenzy said cheerfully, around a mouthful of melon, flecks of which burst out of his mouth as he chewed with his mouth open.
“Good morning, Frenzy. I thought you didn’t like melon,” Megatron said as he moved to take a seat across from Soundwave, fixing his Speaker with a look. He folded his hands on the counter, watching Soundwave carefully spoon rolled oats and honey into his mouth.
Only here, in the privacy of the empty preparation room, did Soundwave feel comfortable eating without his mask. He’d set it aside, and there was nothing to hide the scars around his neck, the raw patches where feathers had been torn free and never grew back. Marks of a chain, human-made.
They never failed to make a ripple of anger surge through Megatron. If it weren’t for the fact most of the humans responsible were dead, he’d never manage to swallow it down.
“It’s grown on me!” Frenzy chirped and noisily bit into another section of melon, spraying juice in all directions.
“Tastes change,” Soundwave rasped, his voice sounding rougher today, and worse than it had this morning. “Manners, Frenzy.”
“Awww.” Frenzy kicked his legs, but the next bite was far more delicate. “You take the fun outta everythin’.”
Soundwave ignored him, his pale, pale eyes lifting to Megatron. “Trailbreaker find you?”
“Yes, you meddlesome little spy, he did.” Megatron braced his elbows on the edge of the table. “And point taken.”
Soundwave’s lips curled into a small smile. He spooned another bite of oats into his mouth.
“It’s not the only thing you’ve meddled in today,” Megatron continued conversationally. He reached for the bowl of fruit in the middle, spearing a peach with his talon. “You did that on purpose.”
Frenzy snickered into his melon, his eyes sparkling with humor.
Soundwave, however, was entirely bland. “Specifics necessary, Liege.”
“Stop. You know you don’t have to say that.” Not in general, but Soundwave wouldn’t relent on that, so Megatron at least got him to agree to not using the title in private.
Soundwave spooned in another mouthful of oats. The spoon made a scraping noise as he bumped it against his teeth.
Megatron sighed and fiddled with the peach, rolling it between his fingers. “I told you to reassign Hot Rod, and you put him with Orion. If that wasn’t deliberate, I’ll eat this peach pit.”
Frenzy scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, smearing melon juice everywhere. “I hear they’re tasty roasted over an open fire.”
Soundwave rested the spoon in the bowl. “Hot Rod’s experience is acceptable, and his comprehension of multiple languages makes him ideal for Orion’s assistant.”
Megatron’s eyes narrowed. This was all news to him. He hadn’t even known Hot Rod spoke anything other than their common tongue. “And yet he was first assigned to the Cradle.”
“Orion didn’t need an assistant then. The Cradle did.”
Megatron twitched. “You’re playing semantics with me.”
“Reassignment requested?” Soundwave asked as he picked up the spoon again, stirring it through the rolled oats.
Frenzy’s massive grin was hidden only by the curve of melon pressed between his lips. His eyes bounced back and forth between his brother and Megatron as though it were an interesting battle. And perhaps it was.
Megatron thumbed the peach. “Do you think I don’t know how devious you are, by now?”
Frenzy erupted into a giggle. “Boss, there ain’t nowhere bro can put hot stuff where you won’t see him.”
Megatron reared back. “That’s not--”
“Lie.” A single word, clipped and pointed, before Soundwave spooned oats into his mouth with a deliberate motion.
“His happiness is my primary concern,” Megatron corrected through gritted teeth.
Frenzy dropped the empty melon rind to the table. “Hah. If that were true, then you’d have rutted him already.”
“Frenzy.”
The small harpy’s smirk was utterly unrepentant. “Got it, bro. Being quiet now.”
If he actually succeeded, it would be a miracle. Frenzy snatched a handful of candied pecans out of the bowl near Soundwave’s hand and shoved them into his mouth.
Soundwave rested his spoon in the now empty bowl, affixing Megatron with a level look, his pale eyes unerringly finding Megatron. “You will temper yourself, my liege.”
The use of the honorific was purposeful this time. Megatron knew Soundwave well enough to recognize that by now. He’d been rebuked.
His gaze lowered. “I will apologize, yes.”
Soundwave nodded and reached across the table, fingers searching the fruit bowl before selecting a plum and removing it. “Someday, you will realize that few secrets are worth the price paid.”
Megatron snorted and bit into his peach, the juices immediately soaking his mouth. “That’ll be the day you realize being cryptic is utterly useless.” He spoke with his mouth full. But he could do that.
Soundwave’s lips curved into a slight smile of amusement.
Frenzy loudly crunched on his candied pecans, wriggling in his chair. He looked as though he might burst if he couldn’t speak, but he still obeyed his eldest brother. Or adopted brother, rather.
In truth, only Ravage was biologically related to Soundwave. He’d adopted Frenzy and Rumble from a couple who believed far too much in the superstitions about twins. He’d rescued Laserbeak and Buzzsaw from the same humans who’d scarred him. If anyone were to ask, however, Soundwave would always reply, without a hitch, ‘they are my brothers’.
To him, their actual blood didn’t matter. They were his brothers, his siblings, the beat of his core. He would die to protect each and every one of them.
Megatron slipped off his stool. “Then I leave you to it. Assign Hot Rod wherever you think is best. I won’t interfere again.”
Soundwave carefully licked at the plum, eating without mess unlike both Frenzy and Megatron. “Yes, my liege.”
“Bye, Boss!”
Frenzy’s cheerful waving followed Megatron out the door. He paused only long enough to drop the cleaned peach pit in a gathering basket. They collected all of the stone fruit pits and crushed them for various recipes and art projects. Waste not, want not.
The sweetness of the peach lingered on Megatron’s tongue. He allowed himself a moment to ponder what to do next before he trudged back to the ground floor and the mountain of paperwork no doubt waiting for him. It never ceased to amaze him how many documents a small flock could generate.
There was no helping it.
Megatron ducked into his office, though he left the door pinned open. He welcomed any and all distractions or interruptions so long as they would save him from this most onerous task.
He maneuvered behind his desk, sat heavily down in his stool, and glared at the neat assemblage of scrolls and thick paper. Thick-er, he should say. They’d quickly discovered that using the traditional paper stock of the university was a poor choice. It was too thin, too delicate, too easily punctured by sharp harpy talons. Now they used something a bit heavier. Card stock, he believed Professor Shin had called it.
Megatron closed his eyes, put his hand on the desk, and grabbed the first thing his fingers touched. Which, when he peeked, turned out to be a supply reconciliation list.
He’d only managed to select the single dullest piece of paper on his desk. But of course.
Megatron sighed and got to work.
Some time later, which felt like days but couldn’t have been more than two hours at best, Megatron had tallied all of the discrepancies. He frowned. The perfect number of discrepancies, of course, was zero. But here lately, that number had climbed from two to seven to fifteen.
Either the humans were shorting them on trades, or someone in Megatron’s flock was stealing from the aerie. Both options were plausible. He’d had a problem with thieves before, but it was usually because he’d just accepted another wanderer from a flock with strict, near-abusive rules. Those wayward harpies would steal food and hide it, convinced they wouldn’t be fed, for example.
That type of behavior was forgiven.
Megatron suspected that wasn’t the case here. The missing supplies weren’t for mere survival. There were solar batteries missing, for Adaptus’ sake. As far as Megatron knew, his was the only flock with decent enough relations with humans to even use their technology.
Knuckles rapped on his doorframe. Megatron looked up, utterly relieved at the interruption, to find Hot Rod ducking into his office, his arms laden with documents.
Well, this wasn’t awkward.
“Afternoon,” Megatron greeted, deciding to aim for casual. He leaned back, pretending he hadn’t been hunched over his desk like a fledgling being forced to learn arithmetic.
Hot Rod dipped his head deferentially. Of the sunny smile he usually wore, there was no sign. “Orion told me to bring these to you. He offered the armload of papers. “And also to tell you ‘nice try.’” He frowned in confusion.
Megatron huffed a laugh and accepted the thick sheaf of documents. Foiled again. “Egg heavy, and I still can’t get anything past him,” he murmured.
Hot Rod blinked. “Beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” Megatron shook his head and looked down at the papers, leafing through them quickly to remind himself what they were. “Thank you for bringing them.”
“Well, assisting Orion is my duty now.” Hot Rod dipped his head in a nod. He turned to go.
Megatron hesitated for all of a second before Soundwave’s chastisement echoed in the back of his mind. “Hot Rod.”
The beautiful smol turned back around, his face carefully neutral and his energy contained. He’d always bounced into Megatron’s presence before. He’d always had a smile, a tease, a flirt to offer. The sudden reverse course made the guilt settle in even deeper.
Megatron coughed to clear his throat. “Are you… happy assisting Orion?”
Hot Rod blinked. His hands disappeared as he clasped them behind his back. He bounced on the heels of his feet. “It’s a duty I’m suited for,” he said as though carefully choosing his words.
Damn.
Megatron had massively erred.
He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk. “That is not what I asked. Does it make you happy?”
Hot Rod tilted his head. “I’m not sure what answer you want, my liege.”
“The truth would suffice,” Megatron said with a sigh and rubbed at his forehead. “This is my fault, and I apologize. My Speaker has seen fit to inform me that I’ve overstepped, and right now, I’m seeing how right he is.”
Feathers whispered together as Hot Rod shifted his weight. “I enjoy working with Orion.”
“And you enjoyed your shifts in the Cradle, too?” Megatron asked as he peered up at the flame-colored smol, who’s expression gradually shifted from confusing to understanding.
Hot Rod nodded and bounced again, a smile finally gracing his lips. “Yes, sir. Honestly, I’ll go wherever you assign me, but it’s just...” He paused and nibbled on his bottom lip, uncertainty bleeding in his body language.
Megatron gestured for him to continue. “Go on. I’m not angry at you, I promise. My ire is solely directed inward.” At himself, for being such a controlling fool. He treated no other harpy in his flock like this. Why did he assume he knew what was best for Hot Rod as well?
Hot Rod’s feathers fluttered. “I like doing a lot of things,” he mumbled quietly and his gaze fell, color staining his cheeks a pretty pink. “I just don’t, you know, want to be told I can’t do it.”
Fair enough.
Megatron stood, slowly however, he didn’t wish to alarm Hot Rod. “I apologize,” he said, and oh how it burned. He hated admitting when he was wrong.
His only consolation was that it came as a fair surprise. Hot Rod’s eyes were big and wide, bright blue and lovely. His jaw dropped just a little, freeing the bottom lip which he’d gnawed in his anxiety, making it pink and swollen.
Megatron wanted to kiss him.
“There are times I forget what it means to be Liege and what an honor that brings me,” Megatron continued, his tone shifting to gruff, if only to hide the way his core burned at the thought of bringing Hot Rod to his nest. “You are, of course, free to choose whichever duty you like best. Let Soundwave know your preferences, and he’ll adjust the schedules accordingly.”
Hot Rod’s feathers fluttered. “Really?” He sounded almost breathless, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Megatron swallowed thickly and sat back down, mindlessly shuffling through the papers on his desk. “Yes. My only wish is for those I lead to be happy. Included in that is letting them decide their own fate.”
“I… thank you, my liege.” Hot Rod broke off from what seemed to be the start of an excited babble, and shifted into a more mature tone. He dipped his head in a low nod. “I promise that no matter what I choose, I will give my all to it.”
“I’m already certain you will.” Megatron inhaled quietly and steeled himself, folding one hand over the other. “There is one other apology I owe you.”
Hot Rod blinked. “Oh?”
Heat stole into Megatron’s face, and he wished he could blame the inappropriate thoughts of kissing Hot Rod. “It was wrong of me to try and foist your attention onto another. Not only was it rude to you and your feelings, but an insult to Trailbreaker as well, who I was recently reminded came to us from a flock that arranged matings.” Shame was bitter and thick on his tongue.
“It’s okay,” Hot Rod said, though his voice was soft, and his eyes were everywhere but on Megatron.
He shook his head. “No, it’s not--”
“Yes, it is.” Hot Rod inhaled loud enough for Megatron to hear it, as though gathering his courage. “I guess it’s a truth I didn’t want to hear.” His crest feathers went limp, laying flat against his head. “Maybe it was the cruel thing to do, but it was effective.”
Ouch. Megatron flinched, though he doubted that had been Hot Rod’s intention.
Hot Rod’s lip curled into a smile, thin and cracked though it was. He bowed again, more shallow this time, and backstepped toward the door. “I understand now,” he said and spread his hands, the long feathers sweeping across the floor. “And you can rest assured that I will never be a bother to you again.”
Megatron winced. “That’s not what I considered you.”
“You did,” Hot Rod said, and his smile was hurt now. He lingered in the doorway, as though he couldn’t wait to escape. “And that’s on me. For being an idiot. So I accept your apology, though I deserved it, and uh, yeah. We’re fine. Everything’s fine. You can lead in peace, and I can… turn my sights elsewhere.”
He paused, nose twitching. “Not on Trailbreaker though. He’s sweet and charming, but I’m pretty sure he’s been giving Skybright over in Nyon the dopiest looks lately.”
“Well, I’m relieved you’re pursuing your own happiness,” Megatron replied and deftly ignored the disappointment ringing through his core. “And I’m sure by now Orion is missing you.”
Hot Rod chuckled. “Yeah. Probably.” He paused, his gaze on Megatron lingering as though he intended to say something else before deciding against it. “See you at dinner,” he said, and then he was gone, leaving Megatron alone with his paperwork, including the stack Orion had returned to him.
Megatron sat back and waited for the feeling of relief to wash over him. He waited and he waited, unhappy with the unease that settled within him instead. As if he’d not only ignored an opportunity, but threw it in the trash.
Megatron buried his face behind his hand and tossed his quill onto the desk. Sometimes, the hardest thing about being Liege was accepting the kind of life it gave him and the hard choices he had to make.
a/n: Complications abound! Is it truly over for Megatron and Hot Rod, or do more circumstances lurk beneath the surface? Tune in next week to find out. ;)
