Guardians And Primes (TFP Optimus x Mech!Reader)

2: Understanding Eachother

A/N, this is super uncannon lore intensive. But it will explain quite a bit
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I had been with the Autobots for a few weeks now and had a pretty decent read on their personalities. The big green Wrecker Bulkhead is rough and tough with a soft spark, especially for his human charge Miko. The two-wheeler, Arcee, is very protective, almost to a fault, something I admired her for, and I know her human charge, Jack understood her reasoning. Ratchet the medic is a classic case of 'crankshaft who is done with your scrap', but I know he's only like that because he worries. Bumblebee and his human charge Raphael are like the little brothers of the family. However, the only mech I couldn't get a read on was Optimus.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual from the Prime, although I did not realize it until he approached me while I was doing my routine meditations. I looked up at him from where I was seated with a curious look.

"Is there something you need?" I asked, carefully studying his expression. While he was fairly stoic and quite the enigma, I could take a gander at what he was feeling by watching for more subtle movements. For example, whenever he was annoyed with Agent Fowler, he would raise an optic ridge ever so slightly at him. Or when he was amused by something, he would give the faintest of smiles in response. The expression he had on currently was one I could not figure out.

"May I sit with you?" He asked. I nodded, and he sat next to me, copying my position. 

"Optimus, can... can I ask you something?" I said, the Prime giving me an inquisitive look before nodding. "What's your story?"

"My... my what?" He asked.

"Your story, everyone has one. It's okay if you don't want to, um, tell me or anything." I said while fiddling with my digits.

"It is quite complicated. I used to be a data clerk at the Iacon Hall of Records." He said, telling me of how he and Megatron used to be friends until he betrayed everyone in an effort to gain control, thus starting the war that tore Cybertron apart.

"I'm... I'm sorry that this all happened." I said, my wings twitching slightly.

"It was unfortunately inevitable. But... what is your story?" Optimus asked with curiosity. "You belong to an order thought to have been eradicated long ago, one that is shrouded in myth and legend. The only information that exists are stories of your founder Palatonarus, and even then, the tales are limited."

"That is because our order had to keep the Stone a secret." I said.

"What is the story behind Riftweld? The records indicate the blade was forged by Palatonarus during the First Era to house the Stone."

"That is correct. But it is more complicated than that. Riftweld isn't just a blade. It acts as a conduit, and the Stone is the power source. Supposidly, it connects one directly to Primus." I said, drawing the blade and placing it on my lap. "The blade is essentially sentient in that regard. Others can carry the blade, but only the spark of Palatonarus can use it. There is a prophecy that the Palatonic Guardians must memorize and constantly stay on the lookout for. 'When the spark of the weilder melds with the Blood of Stone, the 14th of the 13 shall banish the Dark and bring forth the new dawn.' The true meaning behind the prophecy was lost, but my mentor and the former carrier of the blade theorized that it has something to do with the reincarnation of Palatonarus."

"Who exactly was Palatonarus? All the records ever showed was that he was the founder of the Palatonic Guardians and was a powerful warrior of Primus."

"Supposidly Palatonarus was one of the original Primes, but others theorized that his spark was forged by Solus Prime, although I do not know what she could have used to create him. He was a strong leader and a talented warrior, but he was also a healer and a devoted follower of Primus. The Palatonic Guardians are his disciples, and we strove to uphold his expectations."

"Were you always a Palaton?" Optimus asked, a strange look of curiosity in those beautiful baby blue optics.

"No, before that, I was a victim of bot trafficking and was sold as a... pet, to one of the members of the former senate." I said with a sad voice, painful memories plaguing me. "But I was freed by my mentor, Galacticas, when the old senate fell during the beginning of the war. He took me in even though he didn't have to, taught me how to fight and how to heal. He... he was all I had. The other Guardians didn't particularly care for me. They saw me as weak, and they blamed me for my own enslavement whenever Galacticas was not around. They had a 'holier-than-thou' attitude and thought themselves as above all else. That pride is what led to their downfall."

"And your mentor?" Optimus asked. That cursed kind baritone voice of his caused the walls I had put up for centuries to crack and buckle.

"He... he went offline due to some sort of illness. I tried to heal him like he taught me, but it wasn't enough. I-i wasn't enough." I tried to hold back the tears that threatened to leave my optics. I took in a shaky vent and regained my composure, swallowing my grief like hot venom. "Please forgive me, I guess I am still in mourning."

"There is no need to apologize Y/D." Optimus said as he placed a gentle servo on my shoulder. I stiffened at the touch as a reflex but then relaxed into it. It had been a very long time since I had any form of touch that wasn't cruel in nature, so the gesture took me by surprise. Not even Galacticas would do such a gesture. It was... pleasant. I suddenly realized how relaxed I had gotten and became flustered.

Optimus gave me a curious look when he retracted his servo. Internally, I was beating myself up for reacting the way I did. I gave an awkward cough, standing up and returning Riftweld to my back.

"I um, thanks for uh... talking to me." I said, quickly retreating to my berthroom that I had been given and closing the door.

'This isn't happening, Primus. This isn't happening!'

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A/N oh, it's happening Y/D, whether you like it or not >:3 *insert evil Megatron grade cackle here*