Unspoken

Chapter 3: Beneath the Stars

The fires of battle had long since died down, leaving the plains of Gaia covered in a thick haze. The soft glow of distant embers flickered like stars against the darkening sky, as the smoke began to clear. What remained was silence—an uneasy, fragile silence that filled the space where explosions and screams once reigned.

Optimus Prime stood at the edge of the battlefield, his massive frame motionless as he surveyed the aftermath. Victory had been secured, for now. The Decepticons had retreated, their forces pushed back beyond Gaia's atmosphere, but everyone knew it was only temporary. This war was far from over.

He turned away from the scene, his optics falling on the Gaian warship where Skifira Prime's troops were regrouping. She was out of sight, likely giving orders to her subordinates and ensuring that her forces were tended to, but Optimus knew it wouldn't be long before they spoke again.

And this time, there would be no battlefield to distract them.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the war-torn landscape, Optimus heard the familiar sound of Skifira's footsteps approaching. He didn't turn right away. He didn't need to. He could feel her presence, the subtle hum of her energy signature brushing against his spark in a way that was both familiar and unsettling.

"Optimus," Skifira's voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of hesitation. He knew what she was about to say wasn't about strategy or the next battle. This was personal.

He finally turned to face her. Skifira's once gleaming white and orange armor was scuffed and battle-worn, but it only added to her commanding presence. Her scythe was still on her back, but her posture was more relaxed than it had been on the battlefield. The war was over, at least for tonight, and now it was just them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them wasn't the kind that came from battle or conflict—it was something far more complicated, something that had been building for years.

"I read the letter that you left me," Optimus finally said, breaking the silence.

Skifira's optics flickered, and she looked down for a brief second. "I wasn't sure if you'd read it," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I wasn't even sure if you ever wanted to read it."

"I did," Optimus replied, his deep voice steady but tinged with something softer. "I've thought about it every day since."

There it was—an admission that hung between them like the thick smoke still rising from the battlefield. Skifira's optics met his, and in that moment, the years of silence, of unspoken words, seemed to stretch on between them like an unbridgeable chasm.

"What did you think?" she asked, her tone guarded, as if bracing herself for an answer she wasn't sure she was ready to hear.

Optimus paused, his optics scanning her face as if searching for the right words. His spark pulsed with a weight he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge fully until now. She had confessed her love for him, something he had never expected but had always felt in the quiet spaces between them. He had loved her too—perhaps even before he knew what love was. But leadership, responsibility, and the survival of his people had always come first.

"I've always admired you, Skifira," he began, his voice measured, though a hint of something deeper lay beneath. "You've been a part of my life since we were young—since we were nothing more than sparklings training for futures we didn't fully understand. I watched you grow into the leader you are now, strong and relentless, willing to sacrifice everything for your people."

Skifira's optics softened, but she said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"I never allowed myself to think about anything beyond that," Optimus admitted, his tone heavier now. "I couldn't. My duty to Cybertron, to the Autobots, was too great. I convinced myself that there was no room for anything else."

Skifira looked away for a moment, her own thoughts mirroring his. She had always known this about him—his dedication to his people had been one of the things she admired most about him, even as it kept them apart.

"But your letter... it made me realize that there are things I've ignored, things I've buried beneath the weight of command," Optimus continued, his voice gentler now. "I never told you, Skifira, but I... I feel the same way.  I have always wanted to say that to you but I figured you had someone on your planet that was better suited than myself."

Her optics snapped back to his, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before she quickly masked it. "You feel the same?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Optimus nodded, his spark pulsing in a way it hadn't in a long time. "I always have. But I thought I couldn't afford to feel this way. I thought my duty wouldn't allow it.  Being a King and a commander was all I every known.  I thought that love wasn't really important at the time."

The space between them seemed to shrink as the weight of his words settled over them. Skifira took a slow step forward, her optics never leaving his. "We've both carried so much, Optimus," she said softly. "But this war—these responsibilities—they can't be all that we are."

He met her gaze, something shifting in his optics. "No," he agreed, his voice low. "They're not."

For the first time in what felt like eons, the burden of command seemed to lighten, if only for a moment. The world around them, the war, the destruction—it all faded into the background as they stood beneath the darkening sky, their sparks finally aligned.

Skifira stepped closer, her optics searching his face for any hesitation. There was none. The distance between them closed until she was only inches away, close enough that she could feel the hum of his spark in the air between them. Her hand, still battle-worn, reached up slowly, hesitating for only a second before resting lightly against his chestplate, where his spark pulsed beneath.

Optimus didn't move, but his optics softened, his hand reaching out to gently grasp hers. His large fingers enveloped her smaller hand, and for the first time, they stood not as commanders or warriors, but simply as two beings who had found each other again after years of distance.

"Skifira," Optimus said softly, his voice barely a whisper in the still night. "I don't know what the future holds. We are still leaders, and there will always be battles to fight. But I don't want to push this aside any longer."

She smiled, a small but genuine smile that reached her optics. "Neither do I."

There were no more words to say, no more confessions needed. In that moment, beneath the stars of Gaia, they understood each other completely.

Skifira took a step closer, and as she did, Optimus lowered his head slightly, their foreheads touching in a gesture of trust and intimacy. Sparks danced in the air between them, and for the first time in a long time, Optimus felt at peace.

No longer were they bound by duty alone. For now, they had each other, and that was enough.