Blooming Friendship - Chap One

Blooming Friendship - A MTMTE/AU Knightformers tale

Chapter One
Pairings - DriftxRodimus
Rating for this chapter - K+
Warnings so far - training with minor violence and holding hands

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Key
Stellar cycle - one year
Sol - day
Orbital cycle - month
Vorn - 83 years
Click - one minute
Nano-Click - one second
Six vorns old in cybertronian years - 16 years old in human years

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As the sol began anew, and the morning light began to wash over the city of Iaconia, a young mech in white armour steadied himself as he practiced his swordplay, completely focused on his training. Drift, took extra care as he practiced his battle stances, his sword swings, and his concentration, wanting to improve his over all skill, and at the same time, not accidently cut something he shouldn't. Thankfully no one was around to disturb him, though around the palace of the Primes he could detect, what he assumed were the servants walking around, and the knights and guards, who were coming back from the night watch. The best part was that he had a whole training ground all to himself, since most of the Autobot Knights were either still in their berths, or relaxing in the rest room. It was strange at first, for back at Crystal City, he would train with other students. Here, the Iaconian knights didn't train until the sol had fully risen from the horizon.

It just seemed laid back for Drift. "And I used to think I was lazy," sighed Drift, slicing his left hand blade through the air, "I used to get up at dawn, and even that was considered late."

Thinking back to his sols back at Crystal City, and his dojo, made the white mech a little homesick. A whole deca cycle had passed since Drift had come to Iaconia, to stay within the palace of the Primes, and to act as a companion for the youngest Prime, Rodimus. At first, he had no intention of staying, even if it was the palace of the Primes, the wondrous palace where the Primes walked among the children of Cybertronia. He wasn't even keen to stay when he first met young Rodimus Prime, who came off as a strange child, despite his holy heritage. Drift was planing on begging to his sensei, to return home with him, once his business in Iaconia was concluded. Yet after spending a short, but interesting, short period of time with Rodimus, Drift decided he would stay.

Now he only had two more sols until Master Axe would leave him, to return to Crystal City, and Drift had to admit he was feeling a little anxious. Master Axe had been spending as much time with him as he could, to teach him about the ways of the Iaconians, and the basic lifestyle they had. With him around he didn't really feel like he was all alone, in a alien land where everything was just odd to him. Sure Rodimus was always there, but he still felt like he was outnumbered.

A sudden shout caught his attention. "Drift! Why do you wake up at such horrible times?"

The white mech sighed, not at all surprised to find that Rodimus had decided to join him. Looking over his shoulder, he was amused to see that Rodimus was holding a mug of spicy energon, whilst donning a large thick blanket over his small frame. "Over doing it, aren't you?" asked Drift with a cheery tone, expressing his active mind.

The young Prime yawned, too tired to even pout at the white mech. Instead, he gulped down a large mouthful of his spicy energon, ignoring the positive energy Drift was giving off. "Oh be quiet, it's too early for this," he mumbled, sitting on a nearby bench.

Drift rolled his optics, stabbing the ground with his blades, and leisurely strolling over to where Rodimus sat. "If you don't like it, why do you bother coming here?" he asked.

This was the third time in a row Rodimus woke up early to watch him train, and each time the young Prime did nothing but complain that Drift was horrible for waking up at such cycles. The young Prime clearly did not enjoy waking up this early in the sol, that much was obvious, and Drift did admit he felt a little pleased that Rodimus made the effort to see him, yet at the same time he felt a little guilty. Still, it was a guilty pleasure. He still could not believe that Primes, let alone Iaconians, could be so lazy.

Rodimus shivered, wrapping himself up in the blankets and sipping more of his spicy energon. "Well my brothers wake up just as early as you do. Eventually I'm going to have to, so this is practice," he declared, his legs kicking the morning air.

"It does help if you go to bed early," suggested Drift, who didn't really know what cycle the young Prime considered to be late enough for his recharge.

"I do go the bed early," grumbled the young Prime.

Drift had a hard time believing that, and he could tell when the young Prime was lying. Maybe it was because Rodimus was still young, or maybe he had to get used to waking up at early cycles, before he would stop whining. Either way, Rodimus was going to have to deal with it, he brought this on himself. If was going to wake up at exaggerating cycles, then he would have to learn to cope with it.

"If it helps, keeping your body active, along with your mind, will keep you wide awake, and you won't feel so cold," suggested Drift, standing before the tired Prime, "So how about we spar or something?"

Rodimus looked up at Drift, and then looked over at his swords. His face expressed his concern before Drift could even sense it. "I'm not really good with those kind of blades Drift," he sighed.

Drift sighed in frustration. It was far too early for this, and he really wasn't in the mood, but he wasn't about to let Rodimus get away with this. As far as he was concerned, morning time for them was now training time, whether Rodimus liked it or not. "Well, what melee weapon have you practiced with?" he demanded, keen to know what other weapons Rodimus had been trained with.

Rodimus made another guilt filled expression, and looked away. "I haven't... really found one I'm good with yet," he sighed.

"Are you serious?"

His response was a nod. "Yeah, Kup has been relentless in seeking the right melee weapon for me, and so far he can't find me one," explained the young Prime, "I tried a spear, but I can't hold it right. I tried a great sword, but I haven't got the arms for it. I tried a small blades, but my grip is awful. Optimus even tried to train me with an axe, but I handle it terribly."

Drift was trying to hold in his snickers, shocked that Rodimus had difficulty with finding the right weapon. Back in Crystal City, a mech like Rodimus would have been made the laughing stock, for someone unable to hold any weapon was considered a failure. It wasn't until he sensed the anguish in Rodimus' mood, that he realized that this was actually bothering the young Prime. His delicate fingers tapped the side of his mug, as he huffed out his stress. Drift bit his derma, knowing how difficult it must be not being able to handle a weapon. "You can handle an arcane bow, right?" pointed out Drift, trying to reassure the young Prime, "Not many mechs at your age can handle such a weapon."

Rodimus huffed, looking at Drift with weary optics. "So what? It won't help me in close combat, and Primes are supposed to handle multiple weapons," he sighed, his voice showing his dismay, "Optimus says I just need to find the right one, but I'm nearly six vorns, and I haven't found one!" Rodimus suddenly gulped back a large amount of his spicy energon, and Drift was starting to detect anger from the young Prime. "Optimus mastered his sword and axe skills when he was five vorns, Sentinel mastered his giga swords when he was four and a half vorns, my father mastered his swords and lances when he was only four vorns, and I can only handle a stupid bow. I'm nothing but a failure in their optics!"

Without warning, Rodimus suddenly threw his half empty mug across the training ground, the fragile container smashing upon impact. Drift stood back slightly to avoid getting hit, looking at the young Prime with concern. Rodimus was now slumped over, hiding his face out of shame. This was the first time Drift had seen him like this. The white mech had not meant to stir such troubling feelings within the young Prime, not realizing how stressful this must be for him. It must be difficult to follow up to the expectations of your older brothers and father, especially if you were one of holy descent. Primes were famous for their handling of weapons, such as swords and battle axes. Since they were descendants of the old knights, it was expected of them. For one not being able to handle a simple sword, must have been stressful.

Drift had to help him, somehow.

Stepping before Rodimus again, he tugged at his shoulder. "If you like, I could assess you?"

Rodimus looked up, with puzzled optics. "Assess?" he repeated with a confused tone.

Drift nodded, hoping that this would help, but at the same time wondering if this was such a good idea. Truth be told, he never really assessed anyone before, only sensei's and instructors could carry out the process, but he had a very good idea how it was done. Back at his dojo, assessing someone was to help identify where the strong points and the weak points were located in whoever was getting assessed. When Drift was assessed, they pointed out that he had a pair of very good sword arms, and he was able to use them simultaneously without difficulty. Plus his spark was quite big, meaning he could handle a great sword without injuring himself. Rodimus should be able to handle it, hopefully. Also, to add to injury, assessing was done at a very young age. To assess someone who was nearly six vorns was quite embarrassing. It would be best if he kept that part to himself.

"If we start off with simple hand to hand combat, I can see where your faults are, maybe even find which weapon would suit you best," explained Drift, pulling Rodimus up, the blanket sliding off his frame.

The young Prime didn't argue, showing that he was actually quite eager to be 'assessed' by the white mech. "How does this work?" he asked, following Drift to the center of the training grounds.

"It's quite easy actually," explained Drift, trying to hide his concern, "We just have a quick spar, and I'll be able to see where your weak points are."

Rodimus' walking pace began to quicken, even getting a skip in there. He was clearly eager to give this a shot. "I've never sparred with anyone before!" he explained.

Drift halted in his tracks, and spun round to look at Rodimus with shock. "You've NEVER sparred with anyone?"

The young Prime shook his head. "No, I can't spar with anyone until I found the right weapon. Until I do, I just have to practice on dummies."

The white mech staggered backwards in shock, for he had never heard of something so ridiculous. "W-well... h-how... that is the dumbest thing I ever heard!" he cried, unable to understand the stupidity of this. "No wonder you've never found the right weapon!"

Rodimus appeared confused. "But that's how it's always been. Until we find a weapon we are accustomed to, we can't spar with anyone," he explained, still finding odd that Drift was upset about all this, "Until Optimus figured out he was good with an battleaxe, he wasn't allowed to duel with anyone. Once he found his talent for it, he had battleaxe masters come from all over to train and spar with him. It's how we've always done it."

Drift's jaw dropped from shock. "That is stupid! You can't find the right weapon, until you fight with one with an actual combatant! That's how we do it!"

"Look, are you going to help me find the right weapon, or not?" sighed Rodimus, not interested in their culture differences.

Drift gave up, no longer wanting to dwell on this any longer. He still could not believe that Iaconians, and even Primes, did not spar with actual live sparring partners until they found the right weapon. In Crystal City, the moment they were assessed, they were given their weapons, and then had to spar with fellow students. Drift remembered the first time he had to spar with his blades. He was slow and terrible at first, his sparring partner showing off his superiority as he dueled with him, thus making the white mech feel weak. It pushed him to become better than his sparring partners, wanting to be as great and skilled as they were. He was aware that Iaconians had clearly be doing their own way for some time now, but Drift still could not believe in such a practice.

Pushing it to the back of his mind, Drift stood with Rodimus in the sparring ground, wanting to at least push the young Prime in the right direction. "Let's just get this started," he sighed, flexing his limbs. "You do know basic stances, right?"

Rodimus nodded, stretching his own muscles in preparation. "Of course I do," he declared, eager to get started.

"Just making sure," sighed Drift, raising his arms, "OK, first I want you to try and hit me, and I won't hit back. It's so I can see how good your are with your ams. Now strike me!"

The young Prime grinned with enthusiasm, stepping forward with his arms raised, ready to begin. Drift braced himself, not even sure how hard the young Prime could hit him. Rodimus inched closer, focusing on his attack, before throwing a fist at the white mech. Drift tried to dodge, as he was supposed to, but Rodimus managed to strike him on the chassis. Once he managed to move to the left, quickly recovering from the punch, Drift took a moment to think. The white mech took note that Rodimus had a very fast throw to his punch, he barely managed to dodge it, though his punch wasn't that hard. It could be that he was still tired, or maybe he wasn't that strong with his fists.

"Was that your hardest?" he asked, just to make sure.

Rodimus pouted, taking it as an insult. "Of course it is," he snapped. "I'm stronger than I look!"

"I'm just making sure," sighed Drift, "You don't have to whine like a little-"

He barely had enough time to dodge the next punch, Rodimus clearly angry at the insult thrown at him. His punch was a little harder than the last one, but it was the speed of his throws that caught Drift's attention. He had a very fast arm, faster than most mechs Drift had seen. Then again, firing that arcane bow must have strengthened his arms. The young Prime cried out as he tried to hit Drift again, hitting him on the arm this time, as Drift tried to evade him with a faster step. Drift had to keep moving right to left and left to right, to avoid getting hit. He even had to move quicker, for Rodimus was very fast with his throws.

Once he was pleased with the knowledge he had gotten from that quick tussle, Drift stopped, raising his arms quickly to alert Rodimus that the first part was now over. "OK, stop! I've seen enough," he shouted.

Rodimus heaved heavily, getting worked up over the free hits he had gotten. "Giving up already?" he sneered, pleased with himself. "So how did I do? Have you figured out which weapon I'm suited for?"

Drift sighed and shook his head. "That was just the first part, silly," he explained in an agitated tone, "Now we can move on to the next part."

"Ooh! What's that?" asked Rodimus, instantly forgetting about the punches he had thrown earlier.

The white mech straightened himself out as he explained. "Well I noticed that you're really fast with your punches, they're just not strong enough," explained Drift, making certain that Rodimus could understand. Of course it made the young Prime growl quietly, clearly not pleased to hear that his punches weren't strong enough. Drift just smiled, shaking his tensed up arms. "OK, now I'll throw the punches, and you block."

That caught the young Prime's attention. "What!?" he cried out.

"It's fine, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see how you block," explained Drift.

Rodimus didn't arge, sighing as he raised his arms in a defensive position. "I'm not scared," he stated in confidence, "I just don't want to-"

Drift waited for the right moment, the moment Rodimus was caught off guard, before he threw a punch. Rodimus reacted quite quickly, yelping as he quickly raised an arm to block it. As Drift expected, the young Prime managed to block the punch, his fist hitting the young Prime's forearm. Rodimus staggered back a little, hissing upon realizing that the white mech was quite strong. Drift didn't want to hold back, he wanted to see how fast Rodimus could be. To be certain he threw another punch, just as quickly as the last one. Rodimus blocked it again, his lightening fast reaction, and his fast arm movements, preventing him from getting hit. So he threw some more, and more, pushing the young Prime back. Not one of his punches landed anywhere on Rodimus, all of them getting blocked. Drift kept punching again and again, until Rodimus cried out in anger, whacking his forearm against Drift's face.

"ENOUGH!" he yelled, tired of being pushed back by the white mech.

The white mech staggered back, massaging his face where Rodimus had hit him. Rodimus was heaving heavily, wiping off some coolant from his face, the whole ordeal wearing him out. Though his punches involving his fists weren't as hard, his attack with his forearm was quite hard. It might have been from the stress, but the white mech could see where Rodimus' strength was.

Rodimus, however, was still upset. "I thought we were sparring, but that was a full on attack," he shouted, his fists trembling in rage. "You're such a jerk, trying to hit me like that. I should have you slapped in irons!"

"Well I can't assess you if I go easy on you," grumbled Drift, making sure his jaw was broken from that hit, "And besides, I think I found your where your strength lies."

"You have?" asked Rodimus, his mood suddenly changing.

Drift nodded, walking over and taking Rodimus' arms in his hands. "You have very fast reactions, and your forearm attacks are actually more stronger than your hand attacks. In time your punches will be more powerful, but I believe I know what weapon will suit you."

Rodimus suddenly got excited enough, hopping on the spot. "Really? What one? Which one? Tell me!" he pleaded, eager to know.

Drift sighed, "I have to ask my sensei first, because I'm pretty certain your country doesn't have it." The white mech looked back at Rodimus' arms, knowing very well they were delicate, besides being quite powerful, "The last thing I want is to cause trouble."

Rodimus suddenly began to giggle, making the white mech look at him with questioning optics. The young Prime just looked back at him, with an odd smile, his cheeks flushed a little as he stared at him. Drift blinked, wondering what he had done, for he hadn't done anything to make him laugh like that, he had been quite serious this whole time. It was that Drift realized how close he was standing next to the young Prime, their faces were mere inches apart. He was able to get a closer, and more accurate, look at that young and pretty face.

He had told himself many times, way too many times to count, but there was no denying that Rodimus was far too beautiful for his own good. It must have been a perk for the Primes, to have such beautiful looks. Sentinel Prime was like a god, and even gave off the aura of one. Optimus Prime was like a divine creature, and Rodimus looked like he had just fallen from the heavens, as if he was a present from celestial beings. The white mech had shamefully fantasied what it would be like hold him in a lovers embrace, to smell his scent from his delicate neck, to caress his delicate frame, to feel his spark pulsing against his as their chassis touched. To think of such things with a Prime was disrespectful, but Drift could not help it. His personality was weird, but Rodimus Prime was just perfect when it came to his looks.

The young Prime giggled again, and then gave Drift a funny look. "So Drift, how long are you going to hold my arms for?"

Drift blinked and then looked back down at his hands. He then realized that he had been holding Rodimus' arms for quite some time, and it was starting to get awkward. Blushing a little, he quickly let go anf spun around to hide his blushing face. The young Prime giggled as Drift flushed like mad, the white mech upset that he had been made a fool of. "L-let's just leave it for today," he grumbled, "I'm hungry now."

Rodimus laughed, and playfully slapped Drift on the arm. "Whatever you say," he laughed, following Drift as they headed back inside.

TBC