"What's a long time to you and a long time to me are two different things, but I'm not going to worry, because I know that while people make promises, the universe doesn't. When I was younger, I thought that meant people should not make promises, either. But Ravage taught me there are two ways to be truthful--one is not to tell lies, and the other is to make the lie true."
Megatron ex-vents slowly. "Don't worry about me getting old. I feel at least a million years younger than I did last month. Also, I do the same thing. Look at the way I fuss and fret over Ravage and Soundwave sometimes. There were others, but they're the ones who were always loyal to me, even when I gave them reason not to be."
He shifts his weight under her, gently, trying not to dislodge her at all, so he can comfortably wrap both arms around her and flatten his back by bending his knees on either side of her and flattening his pedes on the ground. That's more comfortable. Her hand is still in his, his other hand stroking her hair.
"The other thing I said to Ravage, when he told me this was crazy: I told him that he should be glad, because wanting a future with you means I want a future, again. A very different one from my past. A quieter one, with smaller revolutions and a lot less violence. To be sworn to people, not causes. I want to be woven back into the fabric of the universe, instead of constantly slashing at the wrongness in it trying to make things right. I want to be the mech that Terminus loved, and protect what I love, not throw myself over and over at the things that I hate until they either knock me out for a while or they fall down."
He looks up at the stars, hoping they witness this. "Someday. Not now. It's not time. It won't be an exclusive relationship, it won't exclude anyone else in your life or mine. There will always be other people we want, but you are the only one that I want like this. I don't want you not to go out, but I want to be the one you come home to."
"We have forever," Loki tells him with strange, calm certainty. "We just can't hold all of it at one time. Every moment is eternity."
...really, though, she's not a poet.
She blinks when he stirs, but she can tell by the way he moves that he is not trying to dislodge her, and so she lets herself stay where she is, a relaxed, dead weight. Not unlike a cat settled on a warm lap. But he ought to be used to that.
"Already, you're spoiling me with your affection," she tells him. "But you have the right of it, I think. It's a trick to hold another person close while letting them run free, but we are not the first to accomplish such things."
She laughs a little as if struck by something. "You know, I've given Ian and Harley magical tokens--weapons and warded jewelry--but so far you've only received a towel and artwork by the children. But perhaps that suits you best if what you look for is peace and connection."
Sorry this took forever, went to the dentist today and then I rewrote this a lot
"Cybertronians don't wear jewellery or clothing except for special social occasions and private times, when we can reasonably expect to be safe and not have to transform. Otherwise, those things get broken or lost, or they catch in your seams and gears and slow you down. I've given jewels and silks to my lovers, but that's either an intimate gift or a message to all concerned at a social occasion that someone is under my personal protection. If you give me jewellery I'll wear it in bed, or at parties, and love it, and let you show me off to your friends if you like; I'm scarred, but I know I'm still pretty. But if there's any chance I'll have to turn into a tank, it's best left at home. As for weapons..."
Megatron tries to close his eyes, because the tears have come back, but he can't. It's just that she's so perfectly right about that, about him. "I am a weapon. I'm tired of being a weapon. If there's something after us and our own that can only be killed with a rose-golden dagger that's sprinkled with my dearest lover's tears and given to me at the stroke of midnight at the site of some battle on Asgard, then yes, Dulscintara, give me a weapon, but otherwise...don't?"
He pulls her in close. Like a mech with his lover, but also like a child with a doll. Like the way he did Ravage after he had her the night they took Kalis, a day when they both nearly died.
His voice cracks. There's faint light seeping out through the seams of his chest, and the filigree on his chestplates lights up red. The metal isn't hot, just warm, but something inside him feels like it's breaking and he just wants to let it.
"The towel was a kindness. The children's drawings are hope, for them and for us. If you want to give me a present, give me something you think is beautiful, or something that makes you think of me, or something that will always remind me of you, not that I ever forget--but hope and kindness are things I will always need, because sometimes I'm not very good at them. I want a life. And I want it with you, and the people we love, and the people we're going to love. The outcasts, the fallen, the broken, our own. And the Voice and the Protector of the Decepticons, neither of whom, thank providence, is me."
"No swords," Loki murmurs to him and curls against his chest. "Only plowshares. That is where I am in my life as well, I think. It may change, if a challenge arises and I feel the need to face it, but for now, what I want is peace for my children and loved ones, and a chance to piece myself back together from the hurts of the last few years."
"Just before I met you, I had returned from a battle, one that was a long time coming. I'll tell you the full story sometime, but what really matters is that I have respite now. And so do you, as long as you are with me."
The light shining through his chest-plates only makes Loki hold onto him more tightly. There is something about this visual sign of emotion that's incredibly endearing, and that makes her feel protective. "So, when it snows, we will build snowmen, and in the spring you will help plant our garden. I will teach you to braid my hair, and the children will teach you all the horrible ear-wormy songs they've learned from movies, and you will revel in the domesticity of it, as I do."
"And we will reach out to others, as we find them."
"I am never going to leave you, Loki. Even when I'm on the ship...and I'll have to go back and forth for a while...I will always be with you." Megatron holds her closely, but carefully, not because she is fragile, but because she is precious to him. After a moment, he laughs. "You know, a ship with two captains can probably do without one. Minimus won't like it, but Rodimus will be happier when I leave, and Minimus knows the way here if he cares to take it."
Megatron strokes Loki's face. "Something inside my head broke tonight, dulscintara, but it makes me feel like I just got out of a prison I didn't know I was in. I only hope I'm even half so good for you as you are for me. But I will do whatever I can to make you and the children happy. I'll braid your hair and maybe I'll teach you to polish my plate, and if you want to put wards on me, I'll show you where they ought to go, so they never come off. I'll write and study and teach, and I'll teach the children whatever they want to know, and show them how to build things that last. We'll build a safe haven for ourselves and the children and our lovers and friends, and we'll fill it with music and laughter and learning and love."
"I trust you to know your own affairs," she says, smiling at the way he cuddles her. "You will leave the ship when it's time for you to do so, and you know I will welcome Minimus, should he come here."
"Breaking things is not always my intent, especially within those I care about, but it does seem to happen around me whether I mean for it to or not." She kisses the palm of his hand, lips curled into a gently teasing smile that belies how touched she truly is.
"But elskan mín, tonight you have told me that not only am I loved, I am worthy to be loved. There are no words sufficient for the good that does me to hear."
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no subject
Megatron ex-vents slowly. "Don't worry about me getting old. I feel at least a million years younger than I did last month. Also, I do the same thing. Look at the way I fuss and fret over Ravage and Soundwave sometimes. There were others, but they're the ones who were always loyal to me, even when I gave them reason not to be."
He shifts his weight under her, gently, trying not to dislodge her at all, so he can comfortably wrap both arms around her and flatten his back by bending his knees on either side of her and flattening his pedes on the ground. That's more comfortable. Her hand is still in his, his other hand stroking her hair.
"The other thing I said to Ravage, when he told me this was crazy: I told him that he should be glad, because wanting a future with you means I want a future, again. A very different one from my past. A quieter one, with smaller revolutions and a lot less violence. To be sworn to people, not causes. I want to be woven back into the fabric of the universe, instead of constantly slashing at the wrongness in it trying to make things right. I want to be the mech that Terminus loved, and protect what I love, not throw myself over and over at the things that I hate until they either knock me out for a while or they fall down."
He looks up at the stars, hoping they witness this. "Someday. Not now. It's not time. It won't be an exclusive relationship, it won't exclude anyone else in your life or mine. There will always be other people we want, but you are the only one that I want like this. I don't want you not to go out, but I want to be the one you come home to."
no subject
...really, though, she's not a poet.
She blinks when he stirs, but she can tell by the way he moves that he is not trying to dislodge her, and so she lets herself stay where she is, a relaxed, dead weight. Not unlike a cat settled on a warm lap. But he ought to be used to that.
"Already, you're spoiling me with your affection," she tells him. "But you have the right of it, I think. It's a trick to hold another person close while letting them run free, but we are not the first to accomplish such things."
She laughs a little as if struck by something. "You know, I've given Ian and Harley magical tokens--weapons and warded jewelry--but so far you've only received a towel and artwork by the children. But perhaps that suits you best if what you look for is peace and connection."
Sorry this took forever, went to the dentist today and then I rewrote this a lot
Megatron tries to close his eyes, because the tears have come back, but he can't. It's just that she's so perfectly right about that, about him. "I am a weapon. I'm tired of being a weapon. If there's something after us and our own that can only be killed with a rose-golden dagger that's sprinkled with my dearest lover's tears and given to me at the stroke of midnight at the site of some battle on Asgard, then yes, Dulscintara, give me a weapon, but otherwise...don't?"
He pulls her in close. Like a mech with his lover, but also like a child with a doll. Like the way he did Ravage after he had her the night they took Kalis, a day when they both nearly died.
His voice cracks. There's faint light seeping out through the seams of his chest, and the filigree on his chestplates lights up red. The metal isn't hot, just warm, but something inside him feels like it's breaking and he just wants to let it.
"The towel was a kindness. The children's drawings are hope, for them and for us. If you want to give me a present, give me something you think is beautiful, or something that makes you think of me, or something that will always remind me of you, not that I ever forget--but hope and kindness are things I will always need, because sometimes I'm not very good at them. I want a life. And I want it with you, and the people we love, and the people we're going to love. The outcasts, the fallen, the broken, our own. And the Voice and the Protector of the Decepticons, neither of whom, thank providence, is me."
no subject
"Just before I met you, I had returned from a battle, one that was a long time coming. I'll tell you the full story sometime, but what really matters is that I have respite now. And so do you, as long as you are with me."
The light shining through his chest-plates only makes Loki hold onto him more tightly. There is something about this visual sign of emotion that's incredibly endearing, and that makes her feel protective. "So, when it snows, we will build snowmen, and in the spring you will help plant our garden. I will teach you to braid my hair, and the children will teach you all the horrible ear-wormy songs they've learned from movies, and you will revel in the domesticity of it, as I do."
"And we will reach out to others, as we find them."
no subject
Megatron strokes Loki's face. "Something inside my head broke tonight, dulscintara, but it makes me feel like I just got out of a prison I didn't know I was in. I only hope I'm even half so good for you as you are for me. But I will do whatever I can to make you and the children happy. I'll braid your hair and maybe I'll teach you to polish my plate, and if you want to put wards on me, I'll show you where they ought to go, so they never come off. I'll write and study and teach, and I'll teach the children whatever they want to know, and show them how to build things that last. We'll build a safe haven for ourselves and the children and our lovers and friends, and we'll fill it with music and laughter and learning and love."
no subject
"Breaking things is not always my intent, especially within those I care about, but it does seem to happen around me whether I mean for it to or not." She kisses the palm of his hand, lips curled into a gently teasing smile that belies how touched she truly is.
"But elskan mín, tonight you have told me that not only am I loved, I am worthy to be loved. There are no words sufficient for the good that does me to hear."