When in the Presence of Royalty Smokescreen x Megatron's Daughter Reader

A Legend to be Told

         "Is that why Commander Smokescreen always gaurds the Well of Allsparks?" a youngling raised her servo, new to the group, curious gold optics watching the famed Prime's every move as he told them the story of their favorite hero. It was the millionth time, but he never failed to tell it when asked.

         "Indeed," he nodded, "With Excelsior by his side. Mune had been ordered to become my symbiote, Grub stayed with Miko on Earth, and-"

         "And Ruckus became Ratchet's symbiote!"

The class giggled, knowing the pairing was one of the most amusing, but it helped when they had to go for checkups. Ratchet was still grumpy, sometimes scary with a needle, but Ruckus always made the patient laugh.

         "Yes, he did," Optimus shook his helm at their shenanigans and knowledge of the legend that was (Y/D)'s story. A femmeling held tightly to her metal doll, a perfect replica of (Y/D), flashing a perfectly cocky smile, singular fang glittering under the light of the Iacon archive's ceiling. He sighed, remembering her laugh, energy and pure charisma. This moment of remeniscing was interrupted by the tapping of a tiny digit to his pede.

         "Op-mus," the smallest of the class started the newest of three to his audience, "Did Smokescreen ever find w'ove again?"

To this, the Prime had no answer, so instead, he smiled, picking up the mechling, his silver horns on his helm an exact replica of Cliffjumper's, only his paint job was green.

         "You'd have to ask him yourself," the Prime informed, "but for now, it's about time for your creators to arrive."

The class booed as they pouted, not wanting to go home quite yet, but they soon filed out, some finding their Sires, others their Carriers, but one slipped through a back door. A beautiful pink and purple femme, her optics a soft cyan. She found her Carrier waiting in an alley with a basket, filled with goodies, as well as necessities. The femme was pure purple, optics a powdery pink that lit the way to the Well of Allsparks, where bright new lives would pop out like fireflies. The two watched as a spark split in two on the way out, playing with each other before following Excelsior's directions. His mane no longer glitched, holographic body bright, and more life like. The two were greeted by a skeptical Smokescreen.

         "Who goes there?" He questioned, ready to fight, but pulling no weapon into the open.

         "It's just us." The femme called.

         "Lightway?" Smokescreen smiled, soon waving at the sparkling by her pede, "hello Arrowglider, you get cuter every day!"

The sparkling giggled as she ran to Smokescreen's pede, giving him a big hug, well, as big as she could manage. The flier, no longer a rookie, looked to the basket of goodies, and chuckled.

         "I am well taken care of here. No one's forgotten about me."

         "I-I know..." she shuffled a pede bashfully, "I just thought you might like something more than your usual... rations."

The mech looked to his small hut, built specifically for him, since he swore never to leave the Well as it's gaurdian. He lived in solitude, aside from Excelsior, and the occasional visitor, but he lived as if the war were still going, as if energon supply could run out any moment.

         "That energon showed be used to take care of yourselves," he told her, "not a soldier like me."

         "Oh Predacon-aft," Lightway huffed, "you're just as important! You know you'll end up having at least some of what I've managed to make, so please, make this a little easier on me?"