Let's start the week with...
Title: Sparkless. (27/??)
Rating: R
Warnings: A bit of violence, angst, possible slashy goodness. Implied character death.
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Volt.
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.
In Prowl’s opinion, challenges were something that had to be met with absolute confidence but with a measure of caution. He knew very well how vicious and malicious the nobility could be when they disapproved of something; they would not appreciate their opinion being ignored and whatever peer pressure power they had to be completely ineffective. Prowl knew it first hand, it was this that had garnered him the unpopularity he held among his people when his attitude changed after the passing of his bondmate.
He had begun to ignore and take away any measure of influence over him the nobles and socialites had in his life, and they answered with open dislike. There were many that tried to object to his rule, considering him an inadequate ruler for Praxus. It was that which drove him to devote his life to make sure Praxus was as grandiose as it had been under his sire’s rule.
But now the challenge presented by the nobility of not only his city but that of the shire Jazz was from, was a very difficult one to face. Prowl had nothing left to lose when he rejected the nobles and reneged what influence they had on him, but the stakes were set higher this time, and the Lord of Praxus did have something to lose. He could lose Jazz and that was something he could not afford. In the cycles and deca-cycles since they decided to give their mutual love a chance for a relationship, Jazz became a very important part of his life and now they were this deep down the road, Prowl knew that losing Jazz would finish what was started with the loss of his bondmate and child. Prowl knew he would be lost forever, should Jazz be taken from him.
It was a frightening revelation in a way. To realize suddenly just how important Jazz had become for him, and the depth of the burning love he knew now he had for Jazz. It had crept over him, into him without much notice. It was a very strong feeling. Despite the turmoil that their relationship had started, Lord Prowl felt peace when he was with Jazz; he felt warmth and an affection he had not felt in a very long time. There was more than attraction and although he still found Jazz as attractive as ever, it wasn’t the mech’s appearance which mattered to him. He wanted that warm spark to be part of his life. Still, he refused to rush things, allowed their relationship to bloom on its own, in part because Prowl did not know what else should happen between them. Intimacy wasn’t a concern for either of them, they felt so comfortable with one another, and the time together was all that mattered to them. Interfacing was the last thing in their minds. At least for Prowl.
Prowl would openly admit to himself that he didn’t have too many good memories about the act. His first experiences with his bondmate had made him feel quite inadequate and disappointing. It was to be expected, given that he was so young and inexperienced and his bondmate being the first mech he had courted in his life. That didn’t make the humiliation and shame go away, though. He had asked his bondmate to teach him, and had been an eager student, willing to learn and do anything that was asked of him. It opened doors to a side of life he had been completely unaware of, finding the experience exciting and intoxicating once the responses from his bondmate had become favorable. His mate did not lack in the appetite for the activity and more often than not, their little dates would end up with both of them engaging on a berth.
After the passing of his bondmate and the loneliness settled in, after the first whispers about his spark not fading reached his audio receptors, he sought comfort on anyone willing to give him a few moments of their time. There were no dates, no soft words and needy whimpers begging for more. The mechs would take him to private rooms where he could pretend for a moment it was with someone that loved him or cared enough about him to give themselves to him. It wasn’t the case, however. They didn’t care about him, and in their minds it was not him that was making love to them. He had gained a dubious reputation as a great lover because he devoted himself not only to his enjoyment but that of the partners he’d take to berth. It was a desperate attempt on his part, always wanting to please and pleasure the mechs that’d accepted him. That if he pleased them, they would care more about him, help him cope with the pain and solitude.
When he accidentally found one of the mechs that he’d recently berthed with speaking about him with contempt and negativism -although taking the time to praise his prowess as a lover -Prowl felt another part of him dying. He felt even more ashamed, with himself. Betrayed and reduced to nothing but a good lay. He stopped seeking nobles and socialites, trying desperately to find solace in the physical activity, in the pleasure ‘bots that were hired for his service. It had been the last mistake, as the experiences became more and more impersonal, colder and unexciting. And as he himself grew cold and distant and he began to earn the nickname of the ‘Sparkless Lord’, Prowl found no more enjoyment in interfacing, forgoing the act altogether from then on.
He had learned that interfacing and attraction did not equal love and affection. It had been a hard lesson to learn, but in way it had shaped the way his and Jazz’s relationship was blooming. Lord Prowl saw their courtship as something devoid of the taint of lust and impersonal attraction. It wasn’t clouded by the desire of Jazz’s admittedly very nice chassis. He loved Jazz for who he was, and Jazz loved him back for the mech he was, and not for what he could give to him, be it in material ways or through sex. In a way, Prowl believed Jazz did appreciate the chastity of their relationship, as he was well aware Jazz had his own experiences in the past and the socialites and nobles of his shire sought to have a taste of him.
He knew deep down what he and Jazz shared was beautiful and honest, and he did not want to allow anyone to ruin that or come between them. While he did seek his own happiness and enjoyed the relationship, he wanted Jazz’s happiness and enjoyment as well. Prowl was determined to protect their relationship and allow it to take its natural path. He would not allow others to interfere, particularly when their opposition did not take either his or Jazz’s feelings in consideration. Their well being was being ignored, and he would not allow the bitter nobles to take any more from him or from Jazz.
Their relationship was already generating uproar among the higher spheres, and the Lord of Praxus knew they would try anything they could to break them apart for no other reason than because the high society did not approve of the relationship. They issued the challenge, the tacit threat that they had no freedom and Prowl and Jazz were to submit to the desires of mechs that ultimately did not care at all for either of the mechs they tried to separate. The thought disgusted Prowl and although he was confident he and Jazz could meet this challenge, he also knew the high society would try as hard as they could to get their way. Caution was essential.
“Lord Prowl.” Volt’s voice distracted Prowl’s attention away from his thoughts. The Lord of Praxus looked up as he granted his servant access. Volt bowed. “Lord Jazz is here, my lord.”
Prowl nodded. “I’ll be with him in a moment. Are the gardens prepared?”
“As you requested, my lord.”
“Very well.” Prowl cast a considering glance to the last set of documents he had been working on before he subspaced them and locked the shelves of his desk. Leaving his seat he moved around the desk to exit his office and head down the hallway to the receiving room where Jazz was awaiting for him.
Jazz smiled at him. “Didn’t interrupt anythin’ did I?”
“I was just finishing some documents I had to prepare for an important visitor.” Prowl strode to the couch where Jazz was sitting, his hand brushed against Jazz’s. It had become a manner of greeting between them, the subtle contact relaying to one another they were missed. “I hope you’ve had a good cycle so far.”
“It was decent enough. Hope yours has been good as well.” Jazz tilted his head, frowning a little as Prowl’s optics dimmed for a moment, betraying that Prowl’s cycle wasn’t going quite as good. “What is it?” Jazz asked, standing up and touching Lord Prowl’s arm gently.
“We will talk about it on the gardens.” Prowl brushed his fingers over Jazz’s that rested on his arm, appreciating the display of concern and affection. “Let us go,” Lord Prowl said softly as he gestured towards the doors. Jazz nodded, but was ready to question the lord again as soon as they were in the gardens.
Prowl led Jazz towards the gate of the revered Crystal Gardens of Praxus, the testament of the love and devotion that his sire had for his carrier, and the pride and joy of the city. Jazz had been taken to the gardens before when he was working as the head of the lord’s staff, but he had usually done so in passing and more concerned about tending to his duties than to actually take long enough to appreciate the gardens.
“I never really paid ‘em much attention when I was workin’ here, but these gardens are gorgeous.” Jazz looked around with amazement, the gardens had been recently tended to, so they were sparkling under the different lights that crossed through them in all directions.
“After my sire and carrier passed, I swore to them and to myself that I would ensure the legacy of their love and life together would be appreciated forever by local citizens and foreigners alike.” Prowl stopped by one of the largest clusters, brushing a hand over the smooth, polished surface of the crystal.
“The crystals ain’t the only wonderful legacy they left behind,” Jazz murmured softly, his hands taking Prowl’s free hand and squeezed it gently.
“I know.” Prowl smiled down at Jazz and let go of the crystal, taking Jazz’s hands between his own this time, bringing them up to his face he pressed the golden crest of his helm against them. “Volt has prepared a small area for us to have some refreshments.” Prowl gestured towards a pergola of sorts near the central piece of the gardens - a dazzling purple-blue clear crystal three times Prowl’s height suspended on a fountain of nourishing fluid.
After they were seated and began to eat the energon confections and sample the sweet mid-grade, Jazz decided it was time to ask what bothered the Lord of Praxus. “Will you tell me now what troubles you?”
Prowl looked at Jazz for a moment before looking down to his plate, stabbing through a treat. “The nobles have decided to up the stakes against us.”
Jazz frowned. “What are they doin’?”
“Voices are rising in opposition, suggesting I am not a capable ruler and that I must be removed from my position.” Prowl brought the treat to his mouth, eating half of the confection, his expression was calm if humorless. “The Lord Prime has been convinced he needs to come to see me and review personally the state of Praxus and whether or I am doing my job as ruler.”
“What? That’s insane!” Jazz frowned, ignoring his refreshments as he brought his hand to touch Prowl’s with concern. “What’ll happen if the Lord Prime...”
“I would have to give up my title as Lord of Praxus and transfer access to the city’s funds to whoever was newly appointed to take my place.”
Jazz’s frown deepened, barely concealing his anger at the lows the nobles of Praxus were willing to go. “The Lord Prime wouldn’t do that, would he?”
“He will if he considers I am not doing a proper job. It’ll be decided by him upon his incoming inspection.” Prowl took Jazz’s hand in his free one, gently squeezing it in reassurance. “It will depend upon him if he considers I’ve tended to my duties properly or not. I have no reason to believe he will find any faults on my actions, given that he has shown no complaints during the previous inspections during my rule, but his opinion could change, it’s all in his hands.”
Jazz nodded, feeling incredibly unhappy and concerned about the possibility, however minimal it could be. He knew it would be a terrible blow to Prowl’s self esteem if he was removed from his post as ruler of the city, having worked so hard for so long to maintain Praxus as the prosperous city it was, and keeping thus the legacy of his sire’s own rule.
Prowl knew the kind of thoughts that were forming in Jazz’s mind and decided it was time for a diversion. “Allow me to give you a tour around the gardens properly. I do not wish to allow these circumstances to take away the enjoyment of our time together.”
Jazz couldn’t help but smile up at the black and white lord, nodding once as he stood up. “I’d love that.”
The Lord of Praxus guided Jazz around the gardens, and Jazz realized for the first time just how massive and gorgeous the gardens really were. Prowl explained the history of the gardens. While many places on Cybertron grew crystal clusters, Praxus was the perfect ground to produce the clearest, most beautiful and sturdy, and these gardens displayed the most perfect that could be seen.
Prowl had forgotten, though, that the gardeners were tending to the newest clusters that had been developing, stopping close by as one of the gardeners groomed the crystals. “That looks different than th’rest.”
“The gardener is chipping away the excess of structures growing at one side to allow the crystal to remain suspended in equilibrium.” Prowl explained while the gardener worked in silence. It was then when Prowl heard a distinctive sound and a shard of crystal went flying towards them, propelled by the force with which it had been cut off.
Prowl’s reflexes kicked in and he turned around, with his back facing the cluster, shielding Jazz with one of his wings. A cry of pain left his vocal processor as the shard stabbed through the sensitive plating between the indentations on his wings that seemed to form the pattern of scales or feathers.
“Prowl!” Jazz gasped and held the lord up as Prowl waivered a little. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Prowl muttered through clenched dental plates. While the injury was superficial, it was incredibly painful for such small cut.
“My lord, are you injured?” the gardener rushed towards them, looking Prowl over to assess his condition, able to see a diminutive trickle of energon over the wing. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing serious. I’ll have Volt bring a kit to my office to clean the cut.” Prowl stood up more firmly as the pain subsided and cast a reassuring glance and tiny smile at Jazz before turning to the servant. “Clean this up and return to your duties.” Prowl reached to pick the little shard to dispose of it himself.
“Yes, my lord.”
“I’m sorry I did not account for the gardening to be taking place today.” Prowl murmured apologetically as he led Jazz away.
“It’s alright, I’m jus’ worried about ya.” Jazz smiled up at Prowl, instinctively bringing a hand up to Lord Prowl’s wing, beginning to stroke the appendage with the intention to soothe away the pain.
Prowl stiffened for a moment then relaxed under the gentle touch over his wing. He shuddered a little and a little ‘oh’ escaped his lips.
“Yer alright?” Jazz asked, hesitant.
“I’m alright. My wings are just extremely sensitive.” Prowl explained, though his voice had a relaxed, almost sleepy quality to it, finding the soothing caresses to be very relaxing and pleasant.
“Really?” Jazz tilted his head, and couldn’t help himself as he traced soft circles around the injured area, smiling to himself as Lord Prowl had to clench his dental plates to hold back sound of approval. Jazz laughed a little. “Feelin’ better at least?”
“Yes, very.” Prowl admitted, fluttering the appendages for a moment once Jazz let go of the hurt wing. Jazz nodded and followed Lord Prowl back into his home, where he helped to clean up the cut before they had to say good bye for the cycle.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Jazz asked as Prowl escorted him to the gates of his home.
Prowl nodded once. “Only for a short time. I still have to prepare a few more documents for the Lord Prime’s visit.”
“When is he coming?”
“In three cycles from today.”
Jazz nodded and brought his hands to Prowl’s face, standing on his toes as he lowered the other mech’s face to his own, pressing their foreheads together. “Love you,” Jazz whispered and pulled away before the other mech could even reply. He waved at Prowl and transformed heading back to his home.
-------------------------------
Later that cycle, Jazz paced anxiously around his room, thinking over and over about the visit of the Lord Prime to Praxus. Jazz was beyond angry with the nobles of the city and worried about Prowl’s fate. It was ridiculous the nobles would do something like that when Prowl was a good and efficient ruler. And all because they were daring to love each other and did not wish to hide their love, even if they were discreet enough about.
“I jus’ can’t sit here an’ do nothin’.” Jazz growled to himself and quickened his pace, trying to think of what he could do to help his love. “Maybe...”
Jazz turned to his desk, picking up a data pad and a stylus, he began to write down a letter, hoping beyond hope that what he was about to do would not slap him and Prowl back on the face and his attempts to help the Lord of Praxus wouldn’t turn into his demise.
Rating: R
Warnings: A bit of violence, angst, possible slashy goodness. Implied character death.
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Volt.
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.
In Prowl’s opinion, challenges were something that had to be met with absolute confidence but with a measure of caution. He knew very well how vicious and malicious the nobility could be when they disapproved of something; they would not appreciate their opinion being ignored and whatever peer pressure power they had to be completely ineffective. Prowl knew it first hand, it was this that had garnered him the unpopularity he held among his people when his attitude changed after the passing of his bondmate.
He had begun to ignore and take away any measure of influence over him the nobles and socialites had in his life, and they answered with open dislike. There were many that tried to object to his rule, considering him an inadequate ruler for Praxus. It was that which drove him to devote his life to make sure Praxus was as grandiose as it had been under his sire’s rule.
But now the challenge presented by the nobility of not only his city but that of the shire Jazz was from, was a very difficult one to face. Prowl had nothing left to lose when he rejected the nobles and reneged what influence they had on him, but the stakes were set higher this time, and the Lord of Praxus did have something to lose. He could lose Jazz and that was something he could not afford. In the cycles and deca-cycles since they decided to give their mutual love a chance for a relationship, Jazz became a very important part of his life and now they were this deep down the road, Prowl knew that losing Jazz would finish what was started with the loss of his bondmate and child. Prowl knew he would be lost forever, should Jazz be taken from him.
It was a frightening revelation in a way. To realize suddenly just how important Jazz had become for him, and the depth of the burning love he knew now he had for Jazz. It had crept over him, into him without much notice. It was a very strong feeling. Despite the turmoil that their relationship had started, Lord Prowl felt peace when he was with Jazz; he felt warmth and an affection he had not felt in a very long time. There was more than attraction and although he still found Jazz as attractive as ever, it wasn’t the mech’s appearance which mattered to him. He wanted that warm spark to be part of his life. Still, he refused to rush things, allowed their relationship to bloom on its own, in part because Prowl did not know what else should happen between them. Intimacy wasn’t a concern for either of them, they felt so comfortable with one another, and the time together was all that mattered to them. Interfacing was the last thing in their minds. At least for Prowl.
Prowl would openly admit to himself that he didn’t have too many good memories about the act. His first experiences with his bondmate had made him feel quite inadequate and disappointing. It was to be expected, given that he was so young and inexperienced and his bondmate being the first mech he had courted in his life. That didn’t make the humiliation and shame go away, though. He had asked his bondmate to teach him, and had been an eager student, willing to learn and do anything that was asked of him. It opened doors to a side of life he had been completely unaware of, finding the experience exciting and intoxicating once the responses from his bondmate had become favorable. His mate did not lack in the appetite for the activity and more often than not, their little dates would end up with both of them engaging on a berth.
After the passing of his bondmate and the loneliness settled in, after the first whispers about his spark not fading reached his audio receptors, he sought comfort on anyone willing to give him a few moments of their time. There were no dates, no soft words and needy whimpers begging for more. The mechs would take him to private rooms where he could pretend for a moment it was with someone that loved him or cared enough about him to give themselves to him. It wasn’t the case, however. They didn’t care about him, and in their minds it was not him that was making love to them. He had gained a dubious reputation as a great lover because he devoted himself not only to his enjoyment but that of the partners he’d take to berth. It was a desperate attempt on his part, always wanting to please and pleasure the mechs that’d accepted him. That if he pleased them, they would care more about him, help him cope with the pain and solitude.
When he accidentally found one of the mechs that he’d recently berthed with speaking about him with contempt and negativism -although taking the time to praise his prowess as a lover -Prowl felt another part of him dying. He felt even more ashamed, with himself. Betrayed and reduced to nothing but a good lay. He stopped seeking nobles and socialites, trying desperately to find solace in the physical activity, in the pleasure ‘bots that were hired for his service. It had been the last mistake, as the experiences became more and more impersonal, colder and unexciting. And as he himself grew cold and distant and he began to earn the nickname of the ‘Sparkless Lord’, Prowl found no more enjoyment in interfacing, forgoing the act altogether from then on.
He had learned that interfacing and attraction did not equal love and affection. It had been a hard lesson to learn, but in way it had shaped the way his and Jazz’s relationship was blooming. Lord Prowl saw their courtship as something devoid of the taint of lust and impersonal attraction. It wasn’t clouded by the desire of Jazz’s admittedly very nice chassis. He loved Jazz for who he was, and Jazz loved him back for the mech he was, and not for what he could give to him, be it in material ways or through sex. In a way, Prowl believed Jazz did appreciate the chastity of their relationship, as he was well aware Jazz had his own experiences in the past and the socialites and nobles of his shire sought to have a taste of him.
He knew deep down what he and Jazz shared was beautiful and honest, and he did not want to allow anyone to ruin that or come between them. While he did seek his own happiness and enjoyed the relationship, he wanted Jazz’s happiness and enjoyment as well. Prowl was determined to protect their relationship and allow it to take its natural path. He would not allow others to interfere, particularly when their opposition did not take either his or Jazz’s feelings in consideration. Their well being was being ignored, and he would not allow the bitter nobles to take any more from him or from Jazz.
Their relationship was already generating uproar among the higher spheres, and the Lord of Praxus knew they would try anything they could to break them apart for no other reason than because the high society did not approve of the relationship. They issued the challenge, the tacit threat that they had no freedom and Prowl and Jazz were to submit to the desires of mechs that ultimately did not care at all for either of the mechs they tried to separate. The thought disgusted Prowl and although he was confident he and Jazz could meet this challenge, he also knew the high society would try as hard as they could to get their way. Caution was essential.
“Lord Prowl.” Volt’s voice distracted Prowl’s attention away from his thoughts. The Lord of Praxus looked up as he granted his servant access. Volt bowed. “Lord Jazz is here, my lord.”
Prowl nodded. “I’ll be with him in a moment. Are the gardens prepared?”
“As you requested, my lord.”
“Very well.” Prowl cast a considering glance to the last set of documents he had been working on before he subspaced them and locked the shelves of his desk. Leaving his seat he moved around the desk to exit his office and head down the hallway to the receiving room where Jazz was awaiting for him.
Jazz smiled at him. “Didn’t interrupt anythin’ did I?”
“I was just finishing some documents I had to prepare for an important visitor.” Prowl strode to the couch where Jazz was sitting, his hand brushed against Jazz’s. It had become a manner of greeting between them, the subtle contact relaying to one another they were missed. “I hope you’ve had a good cycle so far.”
“It was decent enough. Hope yours has been good as well.” Jazz tilted his head, frowning a little as Prowl’s optics dimmed for a moment, betraying that Prowl’s cycle wasn’t going quite as good. “What is it?” Jazz asked, standing up and touching Lord Prowl’s arm gently.
“We will talk about it on the gardens.” Prowl brushed his fingers over Jazz’s that rested on his arm, appreciating the display of concern and affection. “Let us go,” Lord Prowl said softly as he gestured towards the doors. Jazz nodded, but was ready to question the lord again as soon as they were in the gardens.
Prowl led Jazz towards the gate of the revered Crystal Gardens of Praxus, the testament of the love and devotion that his sire had for his carrier, and the pride and joy of the city. Jazz had been taken to the gardens before when he was working as the head of the lord’s staff, but he had usually done so in passing and more concerned about tending to his duties than to actually take long enough to appreciate the gardens.
“I never really paid ‘em much attention when I was workin’ here, but these gardens are gorgeous.” Jazz looked around with amazement, the gardens had been recently tended to, so they were sparkling under the different lights that crossed through them in all directions.
“After my sire and carrier passed, I swore to them and to myself that I would ensure the legacy of their love and life together would be appreciated forever by local citizens and foreigners alike.” Prowl stopped by one of the largest clusters, brushing a hand over the smooth, polished surface of the crystal.
“The crystals ain’t the only wonderful legacy they left behind,” Jazz murmured softly, his hands taking Prowl’s free hand and squeezed it gently.
“I know.” Prowl smiled down at Jazz and let go of the crystal, taking Jazz’s hands between his own this time, bringing them up to his face he pressed the golden crest of his helm against them. “Volt has prepared a small area for us to have some refreshments.” Prowl gestured towards a pergola of sorts near the central piece of the gardens - a dazzling purple-blue clear crystal three times Prowl’s height suspended on a fountain of nourishing fluid.
After they were seated and began to eat the energon confections and sample the sweet mid-grade, Jazz decided it was time to ask what bothered the Lord of Praxus. “Will you tell me now what troubles you?”
Prowl looked at Jazz for a moment before looking down to his plate, stabbing through a treat. “The nobles have decided to up the stakes against us.”
Jazz frowned. “What are they doin’?”
“Voices are rising in opposition, suggesting I am not a capable ruler and that I must be removed from my position.” Prowl brought the treat to his mouth, eating half of the confection, his expression was calm if humorless. “The Lord Prime has been convinced he needs to come to see me and review personally the state of Praxus and whether or I am doing my job as ruler.”
“What? That’s insane!” Jazz frowned, ignoring his refreshments as he brought his hand to touch Prowl’s with concern. “What’ll happen if the Lord Prime...”
“I would have to give up my title as Lord of Praxus and transfer access to the city’s funds to whoever was newly appointed to take my place.”
Jazz’s frown deepened, barely concealing his anger at the lows the nobles of Praxus were willing to go. “The Lord Prime wouldn’t do that, would he?”
“He will if he considers I am not doing a proper job. It’ll be decided by him upon his incoming inspection.” Prowl took Jazz’s hand in his free one, gently squeezing it in reassurance. “It will depend upon him if he considers I’ve tended to my duties properly or not. I have no reason to believe he will find any faults on my actions, given that he has shown no complaints during the previous inspections during my rule, but his opinion could change, it’s all in his hands.”
Jazz nodded, feeling incredibly unhappy and concerned about the possibility, however minimal it could be. He knew it would be a terrible blow to Prowl’s self esteem if he was removed from his post as ruler of the city, having worked so hard for so long to maintain Praxus as the prosperous city it was, and keeping thus the legacy of his sire’s own rule.
Prowl knew the kind of thoughts that were forming in Jazz’s mind and decided it was time for a diversion. “Allow me to give you a tour around the gardens properly. I do not wish to allow these circumstances to take away the enjoyment of our time together.”
Jazz couldn’t help but smile up at the black and white lord, nodding once as he stood up. “I’d love that.”
The Lord of Praxus guided Jazz around the gardens, and Jazz realized for the first time just how massive and gorgeous the gardens really were. Prowl explained the history of the gardens. While many places on Cybertron grew crystal clusters, Praxus was the perfect ground to produce the clearest, most beautiful and sturdy, and these gardens displayed the most perfect that could be seen.
Prowl had forgotten, though, that the gardeners were tending to the newest clusters that had been developing, stopping close by as one of the gardeners groomed the crystals. “That looks different than th’rest.”
“The gardener is chipping away the excess of structures growing at one side to allow the crystal to remain suspended in equilibrium.” Prowl explained while the gardener worked in silence. It was then when Prowl heard a distinctive sound and a shard of crystal went flying towards them, propelled by the force with which it had been cut off.
Prowl’s reflexes kicked in and he turned around, with his back facing the cluster, shielding Jazz with one of his wings. A cry of pain left his vocal processor as the shard stabbed through the sensitive plating between the indentations on his wings that seemed to form the pattern of scales or feathers.
“Prowl!” Jazz gasped and held the lord up as Prowl waivered a little. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Prowl muttered through clenched dental plates. While the injury was superficial, it was incredibly painful for such small cut.
“My lord, are you injured?” the gardener rushed towards them, looking Prowl over to assess his condition, able to see a diminutive trickle of energon over the wing. “You’re hurt!”
“It’s nothing serious. I’ll have Volt bring a kit to my office to clean the cut.” Prowl stood up more firmly as the pain subsided and cast a reassuring glance and tiny smile at Jazz before turning to the servant. “Clean this up and return to your duties.” Prowl reached to pick the little shard to dispose of it himself.
“Yes, my lord.”
“I’m sorry I did not account for the gardening to be taking place today.” Prowl murmured apologetically as he led Jazz away.
“It’s alright, I’m jus’ worried about ya.” Jazz smiled up at Prowl, instinctively bringing a hand up to Lord Prowl’s wing, beginning to stroke the appendage with the intention to soothe away the pain.
Prowl stiffened for a moment then relaxed under the gentle touch over his wing. He shuddered a little and a little ‘oh’ escaped his lips.
“Yer alright?” Jazz asked, hesitant.
“I’m alright. My wings are just extremely sensitive.” Prowl explained, though his voice had a relaxed, almost sleepy quality to it, finding the soothing caresses to be very relaxing and pleasant.
“Really?” Jazz tilted his head, and couldn’t help himself as he traced soft circles around the injured area, smiling to himself as Lord Prowl had to clench his dental plates to hold back sound of approval. Jazz laughed a little. “Feelin’ better at least?”
“Yes, very.” Prowl admitted, fluttering the appendages for a moment once Jazz let go of the hurt wing. Jazz nodded and followed Lord Prowl back into his home, where he helped to clean up the cut before they had to say good bye for the cycle.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” Jazz asked as Prowl escorted him to the gates of his home.
Prowl nodded once. “Only for a short time. I still have to prepare a few more documents for the Lord Prime’s visit.”
“When is he coming?”
“In three cycles from today.”
Jazz nodded and brought his hands to Prowl’s face, standing on his toes as he lowered the other mech’s face to his own, pressing their foreheads together. “Love you,” Jazz whispered and pulled away before the other mech could even reply. He waved at Prowl and transformed heading back to his home.
-------------------------------
Later that cycle, Jazz paced anxiously around his room, thinking over and over about the visit of the Lord Prime to Praxus. Jazz was beyond angry with the nobles of the city and worried about Prowl’s fate. It was ridiculous the nobles would do something like that when Prowl was a good and efficient ruler. And all because they were daring to love each other and did not wish to hide their love, even if they were discreet enough about.
“I jus’ can’t sit here an’ do nothin’.” Jazz growled to himself and quickened his pace, trying to think of what he could do to help his love. “Maybe...”
Jazz turned to his desk, picking up a data pad and a stylus, he began to write down a letter, hoping beyond hope that what he was about to do would not slap him and Prowl back on the face and his attempts to help the Lord of Praxus wouldn’t turn into his demise.