primeparagon

[primeparagon]

He heard that Hot Rod, but Ultra Magnus’s gaze did not stray from the King’s faceplates. The Captain of the Guard was struggling to keep a grasp on what little decorum and dignity they may have left. “Of course, your Majesty. We have traveled long and far. We would appreciate the chance to rest before we continue this discussion. We cannot express our gratitude for your generosity and consideration in our time of need.”

Magnus shifted to go and stand by the guard that Optimus had ordered to show them to a room. His glance moved to Rodimus, giving him a slight nod. If the young Emperor had any final comments to make, now would be the moment.

Hot Rod shook his head, mumbling a quiet “Whatever” under his breath. If Magnus was insisting they both attend, it was useless to argue. They were appearing unorganized enough as it was. As it was, he sighed, shaking his head. 

��I… Yes, of course.” Then he looked back to the King. “I appologize for… any conflicting…” He waved a hand, searching for a word and failing to come up with one, the sentence trailed off into a grimace. Instead of continuing, he motioned for Ultra Magnus to step forward and speak, officially, now that he’d been reminded he still had to do that. 

[primeparagon]

“My Lord and I will both attend,” Magnus responded, stepping back once more into the young Emperor’s shadow. Once again, he should not have assumed to make such a decision without awaiting word from Rodimus but he had heard the hint of hesitation in his Lord’s voice. If Rodimus was upset by it, he would have to wait to scold him until they were no longer in the presence of the King.

“I know the details of our campaign, it is true, but the course we take for Nyon’s future is the Emperor’s decision. His voice will be needed as much as mine. Just let us know when you wish to treat with us again and we will be here, prepared and ready, your Majesty,” he added with another short bow of his helm.

“Thank you.” He meant it, having his hopes confirmed, regardless of how long it may take for aid to be feasible. He was sure they could hold out long enough. Then his guard had spoken, and he’d been caught between embarrassment at himself, and a resurgence of nerves that he really didn’t know what he was doing.

“Ultra Magnus is right,” Hot Rod blurted, following his guard’s speech. He should have been upset by the mech cutting in, but he likely would have continued to forget he needed a signal to speak. “I’m not as knowledgeable in regards to politics or military tactics.” 

He swept an arm back, toward the towering mech. “He has been the acting general of our army,” composure slipped, his spoiler inching down miserably. “I’m little more than an icon to rally behind, I’d ask that Ultra Magnus be included in negotiations and meetings in my stead.” Now that the words were out, he regretted admitting that, especially to the other king. Blame his age, tact and when to hold one’s tongue was a skill learned with time.

[primeparagon]

Magnus’s subtle cue asking permission to speak was either missed or ignored, but instead of letting his irritation show the titan slipped back into place behind the young Emperor. If Rodimus wished to take care of this on his own, it was not his place to make a scene of it. He’d find an opportunity to relate the finer details of their situation to the King.

The Captain of Guard continued to listen intently to the course of the conversation, not all that surprised when he caught onto the King’s hesitancy. What else could he have expected after all the rumors of trouble they had heard on the road? Some part of him had been vainly hoping.... Still, at least he was willing to offer something. It was better than nothing.

“Forgive me for being presumptuous enough to speak, but if Emperor Rodimus is going to be consulted in a strategic meeting than I request I am allowed to attend with him,” Magnus finally spoke up, glancing up to meet the King’s optics.

The reason should be rather clear without him having to speak. The Emperor may be the figurehead but he was the knowledge and experience, and he certainly wasn’t going to let Rodimus be dragged into any binding deals without his advice.

The King’s words weren’t soothing, but they did help Hot Rod to focus away from the depressing thoughts. “Thank you.” He’d had a barely controlled breakdown in the throne room, that… wasn’t quite what he’d call composed, but the sentiment was still nice.

“Yes, we’ve barely retained an army following the last push, the lord regent is siphoning energy from the people of Nyon, and…” This part was founded on nothing but rumours, but worrisome all the same. “There’s talk of something on the eastern borders, from the Rust Sea.”

“Without aid for our cause, Zeta will run Nyon to the ground, there’s been too much destruction already, it’s barely a kingdom so much as a collection of ruins and graves.” He lowered his head, spoiler following suit. “If you can spare anything for us, please, I do not wish to see more of my people fall.”

[primeparagon]

When the king gestured for him to rise, the massive warrior slipped back to his pedes and took his place at the Emperor’s right hand. Quietly, he followed behind his Lord until they were standing before the king on his throne. Paying close attention to the conversation that followed, Magnus felt a small rush of price at how well that Hot Rod seemed to be handling himself.

It was almost enough to make him forget the talk of Dion. Almost.

Glancing to Hot Rod, he waited for leave to speak. He knew better the details of their military defeat than the young Emperor did and it made sense for the Captain of Guard to be the one to relate them.

Hot Rod followed the king forward, stopping a proper respectful distance from the throne. 

“I’m… a bit surprised word hasn’t reached Iacon yet. Nyon is in chaos, a civil war has broken out due to the lord regent Zeta’s disregard for life and the people’s rights.” this, he had rehearsed. It was apparent by the near-emotionless recount. “Lord… Lord Dion thought to orchestrate an uprising and retake the throne. We managed to reach the castle but.”

“We failed, many were wounded and more returned to the well. If we’d had–” hands clasped before him, simple parade rest to hide their trembling. 

“Lord Dion is dead, he was felled in a skirmish several… orns before we acted toward the castle.” 

[primeparagon]

Magnus dropped to one knee the moment the King came into view, bowing his helm in deference. He would remain so until he was granted the right to stand by his majesty. One thing decorum had done for him was saving the warrior from having to answer that awkward question.

‘Is everything alright?’

It fell on Rodimus to be their voice, not him, and so all he said was a muttered “Your Majesty” in return to Optimus’s greeting.

The prince drew his lips back in a silent snarl, optics narrowed. “You could have found another reason for us to be heard. It’s like you don’t even care he’s gone.” His spoiler twitched, angling back and above his shoulders. “He isn’t some tool to be used for our own means, especially not now.”

He managed to keep his voice low, far from the range of yelling. “Tell him Ultra Magnus has come. R-real-” his voice trailed into a hiccup of static, hands finally resting at his sides, balling into fists. 

Hot Rod’s mouth closed with a click, furious glare leveled at his guard. It wouldn’t do to cry, but neither of them had so much as spoken the mech’s name since his death, there hadn’t been time for much more than pushing past and accepting the circumstances. His last word on the subject was a small, strangled scream of frustration, quiet enough to only carry over to his entourage. 

He’d already done a great job of causing a scene. 

[primeparagon]

Magnus tried to wave the young Emperor down.

“It went well, my Lord. We are getting an audience with the King and we’re lucky at that. Not just any three stragglers who stumble in get the opportunity, and that is the exact reason I invoked Dion’s name,” Magnus explained.

There was a long, drawn-out silence before the massive warrior continued. It pained him to say the mecha’s name out loud. He’d known him for longer and served by his side for almost a lifetime and it was hard to believe that he was simply gone.

“He will have to learn of Dion eventually, and better to have the news delivered by an Emperor than to hear we hid it from him later. If the last gift he can give us is a faster audience with the King, then we must do it. King Optimus is more likely to give us a moment in these turbulent times if he knows how his friend was involved.”

It was practical, yes, but Magnus realized it sounded somewhat cold at the same time. It made Dion and his death seem a means to an end.

What else could he do?

“We have received no Lilith, though with the unrest in tha borderin states it’s not far fetched t’think it were tampered with” he said watching the young lord intently until the Captain spoke.  Ironhide looked to the huge mech and listened closely to what he had to say.

“The King is currently discussin’ pressin’ issues, he sends his apologies for his lateness” he frowned mulling it over carefully.  This seemed like something the king really needed to address sooner rather than later.  If there was war and one of his friends were involved he will want to send aid.  That is something he will need to take into consideration while deciding what to do about Tarn, the Lich King and the Warlord.

Oh he was going to be ecstatic.

“I will pass on yer message” he said turning to leave before hesitating “…make yersels at home or sumthin’” 

Ironhide was the best greeter.

[primeparagon]

Well, so far not so bad. Magnus knew that the young mecha struggled to put on the airs and confidence of a rightful ruler, but at least his words were coherent. The large warrior’s hand lifted as if to rest on the youngling’s shoulder, a gesture of assurance, and then thought better of it.

What he could do, though, was add his voice to Hot Rod’s in order to give him a bit of confidence and to speed the meeting along.

“My lord speaks true,” the Captain of the Guard echoed. “We have traveled long and far to have an audience with His Majesty, and the tidings we bear are best delivered to him as promptly as possible.”

The titan stood to his full height, trying to look as dignified and regal as an Emperor’s escort should be. He would have to be convincing if he was going to make this mecha believe they were who they said they were. After all, any three mecha could stumble in and call themselves nobles, and they hardly had the true numbers and rich gifts a traveling party should have to mark it.

“Tell your king that Ultra Magnus wishes to speak with him, the former Captain of Guard for his old friend Lord Dion. We have met. He will know me, and also tell him I bear the tidings that Nyon is at war and has need of his assistance.”

Then he stepped back, allowing the youngling to take the lead once more.

Ironhide was standing by the empty throne, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword almost casually.  More of a gesture than a threat.

“The King is otherwise occupied at tha moment” he announced “Ahm to welcome yer to Iacon an ask what business you have to discuss with his majesty” he said watching them intently.

“So. What’cher here fer?”

[primeparagon]

“Arcee, can you assist him with that?” Magnus asked without turning to face the pair. He was moving about the camp with a surprising amount of speed, bundling everything in its place. There wasn’t much to pack, thankfully, as they could only bring what three mecha could carry when they left Nyon. It could be finished in a matter of minutes. 

He set aside the paints when he came to them, within easy reach of his companions. In that he was little or less help. Arcee was the native to Nyon and knew more of the Emperor’s traditional garb than he ever would.

And apparently Hot Rod wasn’t going fast enough for the large warrior’s taste. When the young Lord had half of the tent dismantled, he ghosted over and began to assist. “Perhaps you should do as Arcee suggested, my Lord? I am capable of this, and such idle labor is below your station.”

Worse for Wear

“Suspicious. It’s suspicious, Magnus. Especially since, being so close to the castle, we could probably have traveled a bit further to find an inn.” she shook her head, moving to gather their supplies. 

In a kingdom at peace, it probably hadn’t been wise keeping off the roads for so long. 

“My liege, we should re-apply your paint before we leave.”

[primeparagon]

Well, she did seem harried but at least it didn’t seem dire enough that they needed to drop everything and run. That, if nothing else, was a small relief. “What do you mean frowned upon? It’s common practice to avoid thieves stalking the road and looking for easy pickings, especially if you can’t find an inn along the way,” Magnus groused.

But he knew there was something to her words. Their whole journey they had been camping in discrete places, trying to avoid notice so word of their movement and plans would not reach back to Zeta. That or anyone who might think it would be easy pickings to kidnap the Rebel Emperor and bring him back to Nyon in chains for the regent.

Still, if they had been noticed, their movements would seem suspicious to anyone who didn’t know their true identity or purpose. Only bandits tiptoed around as they had these past weeks.

“Hot Rod, you can dismantle and pack the tent. I’ll see to the rest of it.”

Worse for Wear

“We need to move,” The samurai snapped as soon as her feet returned to the ground. “Apparently, it’s frowned upon to make camp this far away from a road.” 

She offered a little, helpless shrug. “Cultural differences or something. I managed to acquire most of the supplies, but we should really… pack.” Optics strayed to their emperor, flicking between him and Ultra Magnus for a klik.

“Don’t look so depressed, we’ll be getting to the castle ahead of schedule now.” 

[primeparagon]

“Of course, my Lord. I will leave you to your rest then,” Magnus mumbled in reply. The large warrior rocked back to his pedes and strode past the twitching Emperor in order to take back his former post at the edge of the camp. If the young Lord would not let him help, then he would do what little he could do.

He would continue to keep an optic out for danger or trouble.

An awkward silence settled between Hot Rod and Magnus, each caught up in their own thoughts, as the minutes ticked by. It may very well have remained that way if the trouble Magnus had been on the watch for hadn’t strolled in.

Arcee came barreling around the hillock much earlier than expected, looking harried and anxious.

“... Arcee, we weren’t expecting you back so soon. What is going on?”

Worse for Wear

“I didn’t ask you, thank you for giving an opinion anyway.” Hot Rod grumbled, sitting again, fingers twitching back toward one of the cracks in his plating. “I don’t have trouble summoning in battle. It’s easy. There’s a clear focus, everything’s got a purpose and reason. You shoot someone, they die, end of story.”

Shoulders rose and fell again, hands fumbling in the air. “There’s nothing to worry about except your back.” It was true, he almost wished this was a battlefield, not a diplomatic meeting. Politics had, and still, made him a nervous wreck, words refusing to come, speech stuttering whenever he was in the presence of mechs from a court.

He wasn’t looking forward to meeting King Optimus. 

[primeparagon]

As Magnus settled in next to Hot Rod, the other was on his pedes and moved to stand in the middle of the camp. The large warrior had to resist the urge to follow him; if Hot Rod did not want to be near him there was nothing that he could do to force it. Still, sitting on the edge and watching the prince from the outside was no easy feat for Magnus.

“There’s no better time to practice if you ask me, my Lord. It will help you learn to summon even if the middle of a battle, as we both know can be quite difficult,” he trailed off for a moment. Did he really need to say more? The mecha was young but he had been on the field.

Sadly.

“And a battlefield is the very place you don’t want your emotions to get the worst of you. Better to fumble now than to fumble later, but you are right. If you would rather recharge that is much more important at the moment.”

Worse for Wear

Magnus received a small shake of the head in reply, the prince standing and wandering to the center of their small camp. His spoiler evened out, picking up from the slight worried slump. 

“I… don’t think I’ve got the patience for that right now, it wouldn’t do to singe the paint off my chest before meeting Iacon’s king.” More likely he’d be too nervous to summon the arrows at all. Instead, he pivoted, gracing his guard with a small, lopsided smile. “The sentiment is appreciated, but…” 

Hot Rod’s shoulders fell again, gold spoiler mimicking the action. “I’ll try resting again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

[primeparagon]

It didn’t escape Magnus’s attention that Hot Rod was reduced to speaking in mumbled affirmatives, a clear contrast to the young, excitable mecha that the massive warrior had helped foster as a youngling. It was only through strength of will that the Captain of Guard’s own frame didn’t sag with weariness, worry, and exhaustion. It wouldn’t help to let the own weight of his failures and faults show.

Clearly, he wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping the young Emepror’s spirits up.

Magnus was reluctant to leave his guard even for a moment, but through some effort of will he moved from the edge of the camp to sit next to his young traveling companion. Only for a moment. Hot Rod seemed to need the company. “You’re not going to recharge,” Magnus remarked, not even a question.

Could he blame him? Not when they were so close to their final destination. He could hardly recharge himself.

“Well, my Lord, we might as well make the most of the time while we wait for Arcee to return. I take you have no issue with that? It had been some time since we’ve had a moment to practice your archery.”

While Arcee was doubling back to buy much-needed supplies from the last village they had passed around, they had an hour or so before they could return to the road anyways. And they’d been traveling so hard and fast there hadn’t been time for the young Lord’s lessons.

Worse for Wear

Hot Rod’s frown deepened once more, denta continuing to worry at his lip. The paint would need to be re-applied before they set out once more with the damage he was doing. 

He hated this, the waiting and wondering if their request for aid would be answered, pit, if their lilith had even reached the castle. The uncertainty was eating at him, he needed to know if they would garner an ally, if it wasn’t just a useless trek. He did laugh, though, sharp and a bit cutting, at his guard’s words. Honor and duty? He’d inherited the mech’s service, it was silly to entertain thoughts that it was anything more than a duty to serve the lord of the estate. 

“Right.” Iacon, the king of a collective of nations, he didn’t even know what he was going to say. “I suppose it would. Propriety takes precedence.” 

If they didn’t appeal to this king’s sense of justice, honor, pity, something, he wasn’t so sure they could go somewhere else. The civil war was one problem, but there’d been rumors of something dark to the east, talk of  conquest from the south. Even if they won, Nyon’s future wouldn’t be cemented. 

“Of course. Thank you, Ultra Magnus.” 

[primeparagon]

Finally, the large warrior relaxed a little as Hot Rod chastised him for the use of his proper name. A small smile flashed across his faceplates, disappearing as quickly as it had shown up; the Captain of Guard could not deny that the prince’s nonchalant attitude was somewhat infectious when he dared to let his guard down.

Like when they were alone in a camp, only the three of them, with no one to hear.

“Whatever you wish me to refer to you as, my Lord. It is my honor and duty,” he responded, giving a small bow of his helm to illustrate the comment. “Consider it getting into practice for when we do reach Iacon. It would seem improper of me to refer to you by that designation in the hearing of others.”

Any good-natured moment between them quickly dwindled when Hot Rod posed his question, though. Did he lie? Listening to the gossip of the passerby Magnus had gotten the sense that Iacon was in turmoil, too. There was a question in his own mind if this trip was made in vain, but it had always been a desperate trip from the part.

“It will work, sire. It must for the people of Nyon. If it does not, we will find another way to manage,” he said, trying to be reassuring. Having the young Emperor lose spark now was the last thing they needed.

Worse for Wear

Lips twisted into a grimace while the prince pulled his fingers away with a pop. He hated being told to rest while they made camp, to sit instead of lending a hand. He’d concede they had a point, the long travel had split his armor further open, constant fidgeting doing little to help matters. 

“Hot Rod, Ultra Magnus. There isn’t anyone to impress.” The prince’s perpetual frown tipped up, just a tad. “It sounds so pompous, Rodimus, Emperor by right of the kingdom Nyon.” That had been his best impression of the colossal mech, chin raised a bit before he returned to an undignified slump. 

“I’ve tried to rest, the nerves are getting to me, I suppose.” Hot Rod bit his lip, denta smearing the paint there. “What if they cannot offer aid? If there’s some other matter their king deems of higher import?” They’d traveled half a planet and more to appeal to Iacon, now that they were here, his fears were catching up to him. 

[primeparagon]

past experiences help shape who we are currently, how we see the world. Send in a symbol and I’ll write a drabble of one of my muse’s memories. 

❥ — a childhood memory ♣ — a fading memory ✂ — a vivid memory ✖ — a repressed memory ✈ — an eye-opening memory ✤ — a memory that involves romance/love ☤ — a memory of death/loss ✍ — a memory of their mother ☽ — a memory of their father ♘ -- a memory of their sibling(s) ✌ — a memory of a relative ↕ — a memory that may or may not have happened ♚ — a memory of something paranormal ✓ — a sexual memory ♬ — a friend/best friend memory

memory meme.

[primeparagon]

Ultra Magnus was sitting at the edge of the camp, back turned to Hot Rod, and watching for trouble. They had camped behind a small hillock, far enough away from the main road they would not be immediately visible to any passerby, but close enough that the warrior could still make out the creak of passing wagon wheels and mecha speaking in muted voices.

Here, at this crossroads, with just a day of listening he could pick out most of the news and gossip about the state of the kingdom. He’d heard much and more, but no one with the name Nyon on their lip components. Part of him was beginning to wonder if news had ever rea- A yelp that immediately put the practiced warrior on edge. Soon the massive mecha was on his pedes and spinning around to defend his sworn lord. One of his hands reached for the warhammer at his back strut.

Instead of bandits trying to grab Hot Rod, all he saw was the young mecha sucking at his digits like a newbuild. The Captain of the Guard sighed, frame remaining tense.

“Rodimus, my lord, perhaps it is best you rest as Arcee cautioned. The sooner you get a bit of recharge, the quicker we can continue. We are almost to Iacon. I recognize these hills and there are too many people on the road for us not to be close to a major settlement,” he chastised.

Worse for Wear

Hot Rod picked absently at a crack on his thigh, other leg bouncing impatiently. The tik tik of his fingers cutting through silence on his end of camp, where he’d been sat and told to stay by a very angry samurai (the guard captain’s glare had helped). 

The wiring beneath sparked, eliciting a yelp. His hand flew to his mouth, fingers popped in to apply pressure against the stinging digits. 

[primeparagon]

The Lost Letter

Nyon had always been known as The Burning Kingdom, a beacon of learning and growth in a land otherwise struggling. Such splendor could only shine for so long before it was extinguished though, and now the land was determined it should be dazzling in its final moments. From high up in the sky, where a lone lilith now fluttered, the distant clang of sword against shield and the screams of dying mecha could easily be mistaken for clapping and cheering. An inferno raged through the poorest neighborhoods of the capital city, started during the battle, that painted the night sky in the golden-orange of Nyon’s emperor’s standard.

In the face of all of this, the lilith hardly seemed to matter; it was simply another creature waiting to be crushed in Nyon’s death throes. However, the lilith was far more than another refugee fleeing the destruction. On its wings would ride the final hope of a revolution.

A small scrap of paper was tied around the lilith’s foot, and it read something like this.

To King Optimus, Protector of the Matrix and Rightful Lord of the Autobot City-States, His Esteemed Councilors, and all else who it may concern,

I am not sure if you aware that the Kingdom of Nyon has come into great turmoil in the past months. Zeta, the one who was proclaimed regent in the place of our rightful Emperor Rodimus, has attempted to usurp the throne now that our Lord is close to coming of age. This tyrant refuses to yield the power that was never truly his and the land suffers under his iron fist.

As I’m sure you are aware, Rodimus came to be fostered under your good friend Lord Dion. I will not retell how that came to be, but when it became clear that Zeta had unlawfully laid claim to Rodimus’s inheritance Lord Dion did what any honorable mecha would do. Organizing his forces, allies, and resources he mounted a rebellion against the usurper to reclaim the Kingdom of Nyon.

We had great hope for the rebellion until now. We fought our way to the gates of the capital only to be taken by surprise by a particularly harsh and well-organized counter attack. We have lost many and failed to reclaim Nyon for the rightful Emperor. With our forces diminished we have no choice but to retreat. I write to inform you of our wish to seek an alliance with your great kingdom of Iacon, with the hope of restoring life to the people of Nyon. We should arrive within several weeks to discuss the matter in person.

Signed,

Ultra Magnus, Captain of Guard for Lord Dion’s Estate

Hot Rod of Nyon

[primeparagon]

-They used to be so little-