Prowl and his citrus under his plating. That must do some oxidizing there.
Title: Sparkless. (7/??)
Rating: R
Warnings: A bit of violence, angst, possible slashy goodness.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Setting: Movieverse AU.
Summary: In trying to live up to the name of his sire he gave his all, until he lost his own spark. Those who once loved him now called him "sparkless".
Notes: This is an AU bunny that belongs to snugsbunny, it's all her fault, I just happen to be the one writting it. Several concepts seen through the duration of this fic are hers and used with permission. This is a very AU fic so please take with a grain of salt.
Many thanks to mmouse15 for kindly beta reading this for me.
Prowl sifted through the packages and pads Jazz had just dropped at his office, setting aside those that could wait and focusing in those addressing more pressing matters. His optics scanned through the pads, making annotations of what things he had to look into in another pad.
As he put down the last urgent pad, his optics caught a glimpse of a shield of arms engraved on the top most pad on the remaining pile. His curiosity piqued, the chevroned mech reached for the pad, activating the display to read the message. Icy blue optics narrowed at the pad's contents, wondering if this could be some kind of practical joke.
Prowl summoned his terminal's screen and began to look through what records he could find to verify the authenticity of the shield of arms and the noble family associated with it. "This is most unexpected," he muttered to himself as he confirmed the authenticity and existence of the sender of the message.
Prowl read through the pad over and over until he set it down and opened a comm-link. //This is Prowl, Lord of Praxus. I have received a message from you where you request my help. I would appreciate if you could elaborate further about your request.//
Prowl listened with interest to every word coming from the mech at the other end of the comm-link, his optics narrowing further as pieces of a puzzle were presented to him, hoping the Lord of Praxus could offer assistance to solve it. After a long conversation and explanation, Prowl agreed to help the mech out, both wishing to confirm if the suspicions now rising strongly in his processors were true.
The cycles went by as Prowl subtly began his investigation, tracking down what information he could gather about a trio of mechs involved with the noble family that had contacted him, seeking his help to find a missing member of their fold. When Prowl received his first upgrade into a youngling, the mechlet had been introduced to an old friend of his sire, an old great officer in Iacon's elite guard, known by the name of Nightbeat. He had become one of Prowl's tutors and trainers, teaching him in several subjects. One of his favorite hobbies was to subject Prowl to practical and theoretical exercises that involved investigative work and called for a development of a deductive method. At the time it had been like a child's play for him, sometimes a rather frustrating game, but satisfactory nonetheless when he was able to one-up his tutor.
It was these games what allowed Prowl to guess already the identity of the mech these nobles were looking for. However, he wanted to make sure there was undeniable evidence confirming his suspicion. And to confirm it, the Lord of Praxus needed to link the one mech to another member of the noble family, that link being what he was currently looking for.
What evidence he could gather through the following cycles opened the book to a sordid story of an illicit relationship, culminating in the unexpected conception and subsequent abandonment of a sparkling. A story that happened to fit with the story Jazz had shared with him during that time they dined together. He still needed to confirm the identity of the mech that dropped Jazz at the orphanage, but once he did the picture would be completely clear, cementing his suspicion that Jazz was the missing heir of a noble family in the neighboring shire.
-----------------------
The old mech knocked gently on the doors of the lord's office, patiently awaiting to be granted entrance. A morose 'come in' was his reply and the mech stepped in, holding a tray with the lord's meal. "Your energon, my lord."
"Thank you." Prowl didn't bother looking up from the collection of pads, image displays and documents sprawled over his desk. The old mech could see there was something bothering his lord and in spite of himself he couldn't help but inquire. "My lord, what troubles you?"
Prowl looked up from his pads, quirking an elegant brow at the old mech's inquisitive optics. "What makes you think something troubles me?"
The older mech smiled sadly, bowing his head in subservience. "Your optics, my lord. They used to shine in such way when you were younger and something bothered you."
Prowl turned his look back to the pads, ignoring the mech's words and refusing to react openly. The mech was not deterred though, and he moved closer. "You have not refueled, my lord. It's late and your nose is still deep in these files, something troubles you, my lord."
"You're perhaps reading too deeply into my behavior," Prowl replied softly, beginning arrange the items sprawled on his desk to put them away.
"My lord, I beg you to forgive me for my insistence, and will gladly accept any punishment you deem worthy for my audacity; but I believe you are trying to avoid admitting something troubles you and speak about it."
Prowl shook his head heaving a long, weary sigh. "Am I that transparent to you?"
"I've known you since you were first placed into your protoform, my lord. Time has taught me a few things about those I serve." the old mech flashed a knowing smile.
Prowl shook his head, leaning back on his seat as comfortably as his tired body would allow. He had kept this mech around because he had always been a loyal and devoted servant to his family. Even during the most turbulent times of his life, the mech was always there, without judging him, just standing there like something familiar in a sea of changes. "Something has been brought to my attention regarding Jazz."
Prowl gestured the seat across his own, and the old mech took the appointed chair, straightening up a little to face his much younger master. "You're fond of the young mech." he pointed out.
Prowl raised an optic ridge but choose not to comment on his words. "I was contacted some time ago by the representative of a noblemech in one of our neighbor shires. They sought my assistance to help them locate a missing member of the mech's family."
"I must assume then the mech they are looking for is Jazz?" the mech asked.
Prowl picked one of the pads, looking at the picture of the noblemech's child, a set of familiar looking fins crowned the helm. "My initial reaction, given that they chose to contact me after an inquiry with the orphanage, led me to believe Jazz could be their missing relative."
"What bothers you about that, my lord? Wouldn't it mean his family could pay back the rest of his debt, then?" the old mech asked.
"I don't know." Prowl admitted as he set down the pad. "Something about this situation has me concerned. Why? I don't know, and it's beginning to irritate me."
The old mech nodded, bowing his head and stroking his chin in thought. "Well, it is unusual that Jazz lived in the orphanage for so long if he had any real family, 'specially if they are part of the nobility."
"That is part of the problem. What I'm about to confide to you is private and I trust you won't spread this information." Prowl sighed and idly picked one of the energon cubes in the plate. "It seems Jazz was abandoned at the orphanage by his carrier after his sire passed, and unless my particular situation is more common than we've been led to believe --which I doubt-- Jazz was accidentally conceived during careless spark sharing."
"A forbidden relationship?" the old mech inquired.
"My investigation points in that direction." Prowl looked through the pads again, containing what information he was able to gather from the known relationships of Jazz's carrier. "I found only one piece of solid evidence, but it seemed Jazz's carrier had a short lived affair with a mech from the slums."
"Spark sharing, though, is a serious thing, my Lord." The old mech frowned deeply. "I don't mean to judge but I don't know many mechs willing to spark share with just anyone, and those who do are..."
"I know, and that's what leads me to believe the relationship wasn't so short lived after all." the Lord of Praxus picked another pad showing the picture in it to the old mech. "I had to pull a few strings, but I was granted access to Jazz's records, only one mech is registered as progenitor and the mech named himself as Jazz's carrier. There's no evidence whatsoever that the noblemech recognized Jazz."
"How do you know it's the carrier, then?"
"Jazz told me the mech he could remember the most from his sparklinghood was his sire." Prowl showed the old mech the picture of the noblemech, "And the representative of the noble family confirmed this mech confessed to having carried a sparkling shortly before passing. It's a complicated situation, as the head of the family wishes to find that sparkling."
The old mech nodded his agreement. "But something about this is troubling you."
Prowl made a non-committal sound. "I suppose I have my reservations about whether or not it'd be good to allow this mech to find Jazz. It could be detrimental for him to be brought into a noble family and the high spheres of the shire and Cybertron as a whole under the label of an illegitimate child."
"It's unlike you to be this concerned about another mech's possible treatment among the nobility, my lord." The old mech studied his young lord's facial plates, observing the way Prowl's optics glowed.
Prowl narrowed his optics. "What are you trying to imply, Volt?"
Volt lowered his head in subservience. "I'm merely pointing out this is unusual behavior for you, my lord."
The chevroned lord filled his glass, taking a long sip. "I've had to deal with the unpleasantries of the nobility's sharp tongues and disdain myself. I see nothing unusual in wanting to spare the treatment to a good servant."
"Or," the old mech drawled. "You have grown so fond of Jazz, my lord, that you're concerned for how taking his place among the nobility with his particular origins will affect him. Or is it perhaps that fondness makes you want to keep Jazz here?"
The black and white mech frowned. "You're reading too much into this. I have no reason to wish to keep Jazz here unless that's his wish."
"Perhaps I am, my lord." Volt's amber optics locked with the lord's icy blue. "But perhaps this old mech has seen enough through his life to know the young mech has worked his way into your spark."
Prowl's optics narrowed to thin slits. "Measure your words, Volt. I might favor you because of the many vorns of service you've given to my family, but I will not tolerate such kind of insinuations. I care not for Jazz in the ways you are implying."
"But you still care."
"That's enough."
Volt bowed his head apologetically. "Of course. I apologize, my lord."
"I will retire now." Prowl subspaced the pads on his desk, not bothering to finish the barely touched plate of energon goodies.
"Won't you finish your meal, my lord?" Volt stood up, reaching to pick the tray as Prowl moved to the door.
"I've lost my appetite," the lord replied as he left the office, heading for his rooms.
Volt heaved a weary sigh. "So stubborn, and yet so afraid to live again."
-----------------
Note: Yes. I named him after the Chevi Volt. He's not Jolt.
Rating: R
Warnings: A bit of violence, angst, possible slashy goodness.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Setting: Movieverse AU.
Summary: In trying to live up to the name of his sire he gave his all, until he lost his own spark. Those who once loved him now called him "sparkless".
Notes: This is an AU bunny that belongs to snugsbunny, it's all her fault, I just happen to be the one writting it. Several concepts seen through the duration of this fic are hers and used with permission. This is a very AU fic so please take with a grain of salt.
Many thanks to mmouse15 for kindly beta reading this for me.
Prowl sifted through the packages and pads Jazz had just dropped at his office, setting aside those that could wait and focusing in those addressing more pressing matters. His optics scanned through the pads, making annotations of what things he had to look into in another pad.
As he put down the last urgent pad, his optics caught a glimpse of a shield of arms engraved on the top most pad on the remaining pile. His curiosity piqued, the chevroned mech reached for the pad, activating the display to read the message. Icy blue optics narrowed at the pad's contents, wondering if this could be some kind of practical joke.
Prowl summoned his terminal's screen and began to look through what records he could find to verify the authenticity of the shield of arms and the noble family associated with it. "This is most unexpected," he muttered to himself as he confirmed the authenticity and existence of the sender of the message.
Prowl read through the pad over and over until he set it down and opened a comm-link. //This is Prowl, Lord of Praxus. I have received a message from you where you request my help. I would appreciate if you could elaborate further about your request.//
Prowl listened with interest to every word coming from the mech at the other end of the comm-link, his optics narrowing further as pieces of a puzzle were presented to him, hoping the Lord of Praxus could offer assistance to solve it. After a long conversation and explanation, Prowl agreed to help the mech out, both wishing to confirm if the suspicions now rising strongly in his processors were true.
The cycles went by as Prowl subtly began his investigation, tracking down what information he could gather about a trio of mechs involved with the noble family that had contacted him, seeking his help to find a missing member of their fold. When Prowl received his first upgrade into a youngling, the mechlet had been introduced to an old friend of his sire, an old great officer in Iacon's elite guard, known by the name of Nightbeat. He had become one of Prowl's tutors and trainers, teaching him in several subjects. One of his favorite hobbies was to subject Prowl to practical and theoretical exercises that involved investigative work and called for a development of a deductive method. At the time it had been like a child's play for him, sometimes a rather frustrating game, but satisfactory nonetheless when he was able to one-up his tutor.
It was these games what allowed Prowl to guess already the identity of the mech these nobles were looking for. However, he wanted to make sure there was undeniable evidence confirming his suspicion. And to confirm it, the Lord of Praxus needed to link the one mech to another member of the noble family, that link being what he was currently looking for.
What evidence he could gather through the following cycles opened the book to a sordid story of an illicit relationship, culminating in the unexpected conception and subsequent abandonment of a sparkling. A story that happened to fit with the story Jazz had shared with him during that time they dined together. He still needed to confirm the identity of the mech that dropped Jazz at the orphanage, but once he did the picture would be completely clear, cementing his suspicion that Jazz was the missing heir of a noble family in the neighboring shire.
-----------------------
The old mech knocked gently on the doors of the lord's office, patiently awaiting to be granted entrance. A morose 'come in' was his reply and the mech stepped in, holding a tray with the lord's meal. "Your energon, my lord."
"Thank you." Prowl didn't bother looking up from the collection of pads, image displays and documents sprawled over his desk. The old mech could see there was something bothering his lord and in spite of himself he couldn't help but inquire. "My lord, what troubles you?"
Prowl looked up from his pads, quirking an elegant brow at the old mech's inquisitive optics. "What makes you think something troubles me?"
The older mech smiled sadly, bowing his head in subservience. "Your optics, my lord. They used to shine in such way when you were younger and something bothered you."
Prowl turned his look back to the pads, ignoring the mech's words and refusing to react openly. The mech was not deterred though, and he moved closer. "You have not refueled, my lord. It's late and your nose is still deep in these files, something troubles you, my lord."
"You're perhaps reading too deeply into my behavior," Prowl replied softly, beginning arrange the items sprawled on his desk to put them away.
"My lord, I beg you to forgive me for my insistence, and will gladly accept any punishment you deem worthy for my audacity; but I believe you are trying to avoid admitting something troubles you and speak about it."
Prowl shook his head heaving a long, weary sigh. "Am I that transparent to you?"
"I've known you since you were first placed into your protoform, my lord. Time has taught me a few things about those I serve." the old mech flashed a knowing smile.
Prowl shook his head, leaning back on his seat as comfortably as his tired body would allow. He had kept this mech around because he had always been a loyal and devoted servant to his family. Even during the most turbulent times of his life, the mech was always there, without judging him, just standing there like something familiar in a sea of changes. "Something has been brought to my attention regarding Jazz."
Prowl gestured the seat across his own, and the old mech took the appointed chair, straightening up a little to face his much younger master. "You're fond of the young mech." he pointed out.
Prowl raised an optic ridge but choose not to comment on his words. "I was contacted some time ago by the representative of a noblemech in one of our neighbor shires. They sought my assistance to help them locate a missing member of the mech's family."
"I must assume then the mech they are looking for is Jazz?" the mech asked.
Prowl picked one of the pads, looking at the picture of the noblemech's child, a set of familiar looking fins crowned the helm. "My initial reaction, given that they chose to contact me after an inquiry with the orphanage, led me to believe Jazz could be their missing relative."
"What bothers you about that, my lord? Wouldn't it mean his family could pay back the rest of his debt, then?" the old mech asked.
"I don't know." Prowl admitted as he set down the pad. "Something about this situation has me concerned. Why? I don't know, and it's beginning to irritate me."
The old mech nodded, bowing his head and stroking his chin in thought. "Well, it is unusual that Jazz lived in the orphanage for so long if he had any real family, 'specially if they are part of the nobility."
"That is part of the problem. What I'm about to confide to you is private and I trust you won't spread this information." Prowl sighed and idly picked one of the energon cubes in the plate. "It seems Jazz was abandoned at the orphanage by his carrier after his sire passed, and unless my particular situation is more common than we've been led to believe --which I doubt-- Jazz was accidentally conceived during careless spark sharing."
"A forbidden relationship?" the old mech inquired.
"My investigation points in that direction." Prowl looked through the pads again, containing what information he was able to gather from the known relationships of Jazz's carrier. "I found only one piece of solid evidence, but it seemed Jazz's carrier had a short lived affair with a mech from the slums."
"Spark sharing, though, is a serious thing, my Lord." The old mech frowned deeply. "I don't mean to judge but I don't know many mechs willing to spark share with just anyone, and those who do are..."
"I know, and that's what leads me to believe the relationship wasn't so short lived after all." the Lord of Praxus picked another pad showing the picture in it to the old mech. "I had to pull a few strings, but I was granted access to Jazz's records, only one mech is registered as progenitor and the mech named himself as Jazz's carrier. There's no evidence whatsoever that the noblemech recognized Jazz."
"How do you know it's the carrier, then?"
"Jazz told me the mech he could remember the most from his sparklinghood was his sire." Prowl showed the old mech the picture of the noblemech, "And the representative of the noble family confirmed this mech confessed to having carried a sparkling shortly before passing. It's a complicated situation, as the head of the family wishes to find that sparkling."
The old mech nodded his agreement. "But something about this is troubling you."
Prowl made a non-committal sound. "I suppose I have my reservations about whether or not it'd be good to allow this mech to find Jazz. It could be detrimental for him to be brought into a noble family and the high spheres of the shire and Cybertron as a whole under the label of an illegitimate child."
"It's unlike you to be this concerned about another mech's possible treatment among the nobility, my lord." The old mech studied his young lord's facial plates, observing the way Prowl's optics glowed.
Prowl narrowed his optics. "What are you trying to imply, Volt?"
Volt lowered his head in subservience. "I'm merely pointing out this is unusual behavior for you, my lord."
The chevroned lord filled his glass, taking a long sip. "I've had to deal with the unpleasantries of the nobility's sharp tongues and disdain myself. I see nothing unusual in wanting to spare the treatment to a good servant."
"Or," the old mech drawled. "You have grown so fond of Jazz, my lord, that you're concerned for how taking his place among the nobility with his particular origins will affect him. Or is it perhaps that fondness makes you want to keep Jazz here?"
The black and white mech frowned. "You're reading too much into this. I have no reason to wish to keep Jazz here unless that's his wish."
"Perhaps I am, my lord." Volt's amber optics locked with the lord's icy blue. "But perhaps this old mech has seen enough through his life to know the young mech has worked his way into your spark."
Prowl's optics narrowed to thin slits. "Measure your words, Volt. I might favor you because of the many vorns of service you've given to my family, but I will not tolerate such kind of insinuations. I care not for Jazz in the ways you are implying."
"But you still care."
"That's enough."
Volt bowed his head apologetically. "Of course. I apologize, my lord."
"I will retire now." Prowl subspaced the pads on his desk, not bothering to finish the barely touched plate of energon goodies.
"Won't you finish your meal, my lord?" Volt stood up, reaching to pick the tray as Prowl moved to the door.
"I've lost my appetite," the lord replied as he left the office, heading for his rooms.
Volt heaved a weary sigh. "So stubborn, and yet so afraid to live again."
-----------------
Note: Yes. I named him after the Chevi Volt. He's not Jolt.