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Ratchet paced outside of the Council chamber, anticipation blooming in his field. Orion- no, Optimus, he reminded himself- had been inside for several hours. It had only been a few days since he’d merged with the Matrix and become the new Prime, but for Ratchet, it already felt like a lifetime. He’d barely been able to see his mate between meetings and ceremonies. There was a lot of tradition built around the role of Prime. Ratchet thought it was all a bit silly, but he knew his mate would respect it. Optimus treated his new role with a certain weight. He understood just how much difference he’d be able to make now, but if he wanted to accomplish that, he’d have to play by the Council’s rules. For now, at least.
Finally, the door opened, Council members filing out. Ratchet caught sight of Optimus among the crowd almost immediately. He was still trying to get used to his mate’s new frame- much larger and more imposing than Orion’s. Still, it had a certain charm. Ratchet had always been attracted to larger mechs.
“Well? How did it go?”
Optimus looked at the floor, field clouded with something somber and dark. Ever since he’d merged with the Matrix, his emotions were much more difficult to read through their spark bond. They came more in flickers now than the steady stream from before. His mate had changed much even in only a few days, but in those brief flickers, Ratchet could still feel the same mech he’d fallen in love with. Orion was still there, and that brought him comfort.
“Not great, I take it?”
“Can we move to a more private location? There is a grave matter we need to discuss.”
Ratchet nodded, following Optimus out of the building. He couldn’t help noticing that the gazes of several Council members were fixed on him as he left. It made his plating prickle.
Anxiety bubbled in his tanks all the way back to their shared apartment. Optimus had been… different since receiving the Matrix, but this was the first time Ratchet had seen him so grim.
“It might be best if we sit down for this,” the Prime said, gesturing for Ratchet to take a seat first. Ratchet sank into an armchair, and Optimus took the couch across from him. His new frame took up most of the space, and Ratchet found himself mourning the days when they could both fit on the couch together.
“How much do you know about the Primal ceremonies?”
“A bit. I’m old enough to remember the last two Primes, but I was more focused on my studies then, and less on politics. Especially not the pomp and circumstance of announcing a new Prime.” For the last few millennia or so, the Prime had been more of a figurehead than an actual position of power- something that Ratchet and Orion had often lamented. They’d both spoken out against the Council’s blatant corruption, alongside Megatronus, before his and Orion’s falling out.
“There is a certain tradition performed on the thirteenth day of the new Prime’s possession of the Matrix. It’s antiquated and cruel. I knew about it from Orion’s time as an archivist, but I never thought it would be carried out in our own times.”
Ratchet leaned forward, tanks twisting into a knot.
“To put it candidly: it’s a living sacrifice.”
Shock spread across Ratchet’s face. “They still do that? I thought that barbaric practice had been outlawed!”
“I’m afraid not. I argued against it, but the Council is insistent. They are threatening to remove the Matrix from me if I do not comply. I don’t know what to do, Ratchet. I want to make a difference as Prime, and I cannot accept the reckless destruction of life simply for an outdated ceremony. All life is precious, and I will not see it destroyed in my name.”
Throughout the entire conversation, Optimus had refused to meet Ratchet’s optics.
“There’s something else you’re not telling me.”
Optimus shifted, anguish blooming in his field.
“The Council has given me a choice. I can allow them to select thirteen bots from a random lottery, one for each of the original Primes.”
“Or?”
“Or… I can allow them to sacrifice my mate.”
“What?” Ratchet’s voice is distant, neither angry nor sad, but something in between.
“It’s tradition- a way to symbolize the giving away of worldly attachments. I cannot make that choice, Ratchet. You are so precious to me… I cannot lose you. And yet, I cannot allow innocent bots to suffer in my name. I don’t know what to do.”
Ratchet was quiet for a long moment, and Optimus reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I promise I’ll find a way-”
“I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“I’ll do it. Let them sacrifice me.”
“Ratchet, you can’t- I can’t…”
“Trust me Optimus, I hate this as much as you do. It’s an atrocious practice that shouldn’t exist. But if there’s even a chance that you could change Cybertron as Prime, I want you to take it. It’s more important than the life of one bot.”
“I won’t allow you-”
“You don’t have a choice,” Ratchet stated plainly. “The Council seems to have made that clear enough. And besides, I don’t want you to have to choose between myself or a bunch of innocent mechs. So I’m making the choice for you.”
“I will find a way out of this, I promise. I won’t lose you, Ratchet.”
A part of Ratchet hoped that was true. He didn’t particularly want to die for a stupid tradition, but for now, he couldn’t see any way out of it.
“Just remember that I’m not doing this for Cybertron. I’m doing it for you. I love you.”
He gave Optimus’s hand one more squeeze as their optics met, and Ratchet searched desperately for any pieces of Orion still in there. He thought he saw some, but he couldn’t be completely certain. Still, he had to trust the mech he’d bonded with. He had to believe that the one he’d fallen in love with would still be there beneath it all, no matter what happened to Ratchet.
-
The ceremony came much quicker than either of them liked. It fell on a dark, dreary day, and Ratchet wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with his bonded all morning, but soon enough, he was summoned.
The priests at the Primal temple led him off to a small room where they shined and polished his plating until it gleamed under the dim light. They applied gold paint to his frame in intricate patterns, highlighting some of his natural features. He had to admit, he looked good, but the entire time, all he could think about was Optimus being left alone, forced to fight for a better Cybertron without him.
After he was prettied up, the priests left him alone until the time of the ceremony. He tried not to be too melancholy, but it was difficult to remain in good spirits.
“Ratchet,” a voice whispered, jolting him from his ennui.
“Optimus!”
The two embraced, and in that moment, Ratchet felt certain that this mech was the same one he’d fallen in love with after all.
“I had to see you before… well, never mind. Listen to me, Ratchet. Things are going to be okay. I can’t say too much right now, but I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you with my life,” Ratchet murmured without hesitation.
They fell into a kiss, soft and tender and over way too soon. The sound of footsteps made them pull apart.
“I need to go. I love you, Ratchet.”
“I love you too, Optimus Prime.”
Optimus placed one last kiss to Ratchet’s cheek before leaving him alone once more, though his solitude did not last long. The priests came to fetch him and lead him to the temple’s front steps, where the ceremony would take place.
Quite the crowd had gathered, and an excited buzz filled the air. Ratchet rolled his optics. Mechs and their bloodlust. I hope they enjoy the show, he thought bitterly as he was pushed gently onto his knees by one of the priests. As he surveyed the crowd, he realized that there were several familiar faces among those gathered. He recognized Jazz, one of Orion’s oldest friends from the archives- a mysterious bot despite all the time Ratchet had spent with him. Elsewhere in the crowd was Prowl, an enforcer who had assisted Orion during a series of attempted robberies at the archives. And standing near the front of the crowd was Alpha Trion, a dear friend and mentor figure to Orion.
Ratchet scoffed. Some so-called friends they were, coming to watch Optimus see his own mate killed before his very optics. Before he could give them any nasty looks, one of the priests stepped forward.
“Primus, we come before you today to offer a living sacrifice in exchange for your blessings to the new Prime. The Prime has decided to offer his own mate, Ratchet of Vaporex, as a symbol of his dedication to Cybertron. The duty of Prime comes before all personal attachments, and Optimus Prime has chosen to free himself from the burdens of his former life. We hope you accept his offering and bestow upon him a long and prosperous life as Prime.”
Burdens… Ratchet thought, optics burning with rage. Is that how they see me? Is that how Optimus sees me?
No, he wouldn’t let himself believe that. The sorrow in his bonded’s optics as the mech stood before him was proof enough.
Ratchet looked back into the crowd, hoping to see some ripple of protest, but the gathered mechs seemed all too eager to see his energon be spilled. He did, however, notice something curious. The bots he’d recognized as Orion’s friends had all vanished. Before he could ponder the topic more, a priest stepped forward, carrying a long, thin blade.
Ratchet forced himself to steady his vents, but there was no way to truly prepare for this. As the executioner"s shadow fell over him, he squeezed his optics shut and waited.
A loud explosion shook the temple, with enough force to knock his would-be executioner to the ground. Ratchet’s optics flew open. Was this some sort of terrorist attack? An assassination attempt against the new Prime?
The crowd was thrown into chaos as bots scrambled to evacuate the scene, none of them eager to be hit by another blast. The priests were also thrown into confusion, glancing around frantically to try and see where the explosion had come from. Ratchet himself sat in stunned confusion, still trying to piece together what was happening when a hand clapped his shoulder, causing him to jump.
“Best get moving, mech! You’re not gonna want to be here when the second bomb goes off.”
He whirled around and found himself face to face with Jazz.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re getting you out of here. C’mon, Mags is waiting for us!”
Jazz took hold of Ratchet’s arm, practically dragging him down the steps and into the streets, where bots were still running about in a panic.
“Wait, we need to find Optimus! I can’t leave him!”
“Don’t you worry about that,” the other mech laughed. “He’ll meet us at the rendezvous point.”
Ratchet still had no clue what was happening, but this pacified him enough to follow Jazz’s lead until the two of them reached a secluded spot a few streets away from the temple, where a mech with a large transport alt mode rather similar to Optimus’s was waiting.
Jazz shoved Ratchet into the mech’s trailer before hopping in himself and giving the side of the transport a slap.
“Let’s go, Magnus!”
A million questions raced through Ratchet’s processor, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of them. He was too stunned to speak.
The drive lasted about half an hour, and when they emerged from the mech’s trailer, Ratchet realized they were in an abandoned area on the edge of town. There were several other bots gathered- some of whom he recognized, and some he didn’t. However, there was only one mech present who he cared about at the moment.
“Optimus!” he cried, flinging his arms around his mate. “Did you… arrange all of this?”
For the first time in days, Optimus smiled.
“With the help of some old friends.”
“But the Council… they’ll be after you now!”
“For all they know, I had nothing to do with this. They think I’ve fled to take shelter. I am sure some will have their suspicions, but I have already sent a message to be distributed among Cybertron’s population decrying the barbaric tradition and the Council’s cruelty. We’ll have much support. They wouldn"t dare push the issue if public opinion is turned against them.”
“What about us? We can’t go home now, can we?”
“I’m afraid not. I’ve arranged for us to take shelter here, surrounded by our allies. We’ll be safe.”
Ratchet gazed around and was met by warm faces.
“I don’t even know what to say. I never expected…”
“I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”
“Yes. I just didn’t expect us to have so much support.”
“They’re good mechs,” Optimus murmured with a smile. “You’ve already met some of them, and once you get settled, there are more introductions to be made.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you, Ratchet.”
He turns to see a large mech, the one who had transported him here.
“I- I don’t even know how to properly thank you.”
“No thanks necessary,” said Jazz, emerging from the back of the crowd. “We’ve got your back, Ratch.”
The gathered bots began to disperse as Optimus led Ratchet into a large building nearby. An abandoned medical facility, he realized.
“You are never alone, Ratchet. No matter what the future holds, I will always be there to protect you. I will always love you, as Orion and Optimus.”
Ratchet slid his hand into his mate’s, and for the first time since Optimus became Prime, it felt natural . Yes, this was still the mech he loved- he knew that now beyond the shadow of a doubt.
“I’ll always love you too, Optimus. You’re going to make an excellent Prime.”
A sense of peace washed over Ratchet as they wandered further into their new home, Optimus’s words still fresh in his mind.
You are never alone.