The Jester Chapter 4 Part II b
Here's the second half of the second part of this chapter (really long post...)
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Optimus relished this moment. It was only rarely that he had the time to be alone with himself and his thoughts and enjoy the scenery in peace. Step after step led him away from the hunting party and deeper into the woods. A light breeze moved some of the lighter crystal clusters to rustle, causing a musical tinkling sound. The scent of the wild crystal trees and bushes was invigorating. Somewhere off to the left a flock of turbobirds was warning away the intruder. It was invigorating.
Watching the play of light and shadows around him Optimus resolved to take Elita with him soon, so they could enjoy the tranquility together. He knew she would enjoy it as much as he did.
Busy planning their future outing Optimus returned his attention to what he was actually here for: looking for his younger brother. Somehow Prowl had, very true to his name, snuck away without anyone the wiser as to where he was going. No one had realized yet, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, after pinging Prowl’s comm. signal had only resulted in a very politely phrased version of “Leave me alone” as an answer, had felt the need to tell someone. Theoretically they should have informed the Prime first, not the crown prince, but telling Sentinel would probably have resulted in trouble and lectures, and that was the last thing the three wanted for Prowl right now. The black and white seemed to have enough on his plate already.
For that reason Optimus had sent Ironhide and Kup, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker out to quietly look for the errant prince and bring him back before the Prime realized he had disappeared on his own. Optimus himself had struck out on his own, too. Maybe he would be lucky.
Ruefully chuckling to himself, the red and blue mech had to admit that if Prowl didn’t want to be found, he really knew how to stay under the radar. So far he hadn’t found plating nor paint of the black and white doorwinger.
He was ready to give up on searching in this direction when his audios picked up a faint sound. Deciding to investigate Optimus turned into the direction it came from and soon came to a clearing. Abruptly he stopped, not believing his optics. He rebooted them and looked again, but the scene hadn’t changed at all.
Optimus had found Prowl.
But the Praxian wasn’t alone.
There was another mech, with a silver frame and a blue visor, chasing after his little brother. His first instinct was to charge into the clearing and come to the black and white’s aid, but all processing ground to a halt as he realized that Prowl was openly laughing. Not just smiling that barely there smile of his, but outright laughing with the silver mech running after him. He recognized the action for the game it was, especially when Prowl finally decided that enough was enough and slowed just a little so the taller mech could wrap his arms around him.
The mech was holding Prowl in his arms, stroking his cheek. Whatever the mech said, it made Prowl smile and sink into the embrace even more, not resisting when the taller mech leaned down to kiss the prince. And Prowl didn’t turn away, instead he looped his arms around the others neck and returned the kiss. Transfixed, Optimus watched the two. Prowl was openly smiling, his doorwings fluttering. He had never seen his younger brother so happy.
So this was the mech that had captured Prowl’s spark.
He appeared friendly enough, Optimus concluded after watching the couple interact for a few moments, and also somewhat familiar. Soon enough he realized he had seen the other mech before, at court to be precise, but not among the nobles. It took him only a second until he remembered where exactly he had seen the silver mech before and immediately felt like hitting himself. So he was what had Prowl so distracted at that court dinner before that fateful visit to medbay.
Unwilling to disturb the couple, Optimus silently melted back into the underbrush, settling in to wait for as long as it took. He would talk to Prowl later, once they were back at the palace. But first he had to corner a certain silver mech…
While Optimus retreated a few steps to give the couple some privacy (still staying close enough to intervene should the silver mech decide to overstep some boundaries, that was his little brother over there in the clearing after all), the two oblivious bots kissed on.
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Reveling in each others’ presence and closeness, neither of them wanted to be anywhere else. Even so, their time together was limited, which made those moments all the more precious to them.
Prowl couldn’t help the way his wings fluttered when he was being held. It felt nice to be able to let go, not to have to be in control of himself and his surroundings all the time, knowing there was someone who would catch him, shield him, cherish him even when he couldn’t be perfect.
A sound from the distance shattered the peace. It was a signal from the royal hunting party, bidding all its members return to the camp.
Reluctantly they parted from their embrace, but both knew that Prowl would have to return now, so his absence would not raise any suspicions. As much as they wanted to be together, if they were discovered now, Sentinel would not hesitate to separate them at once.
“Will I see you in the garden again this evening?” Prowl asked, his voice conveying how much he craved to be able to meet again. Jazz could not understand why some bots called the prince emotionless or stoic to the point of being cold. If one listened or watched closely, his emotions were there to see in the movements of his wings and in the sound of his voice.
“As soon as practice is over and I can give the others the slip I’ll be there, Sparkles, I promise. Wouldn’t dream of missing it.” The jester sealed his promise with a playful kiss to the tip of Prowl’s nose, almost laughing at the adorable expression on the other’s face. But then everything about Prowl was adorable to him… Primus, he’d really fallen hard for the black and white.
Stepping away slowly, they held onto each other with their servos until they absolutely had to let go, before Prowl turned and walked to the edge of the clearing.
Grinning happily Jazz watched every one of Prowl’s movements, waving enthusiastically when Prowl turned back into his direction once and smiled upon seeing the jester watching him. He waited until the black and white was completely out of sight, before he readied himself for his return to the city. He was already late for his practice with Blaster, but the prospect of spending some time with Prowl was well worth a little hurry.
A song on his lips he turned into the direction he had come from only for the melody to cease abruptly when he came face to face with another mech. Jazz froze, instantly recognizing the other mech for who he was. It would have been hard for him not to know the other’s identity. Everyone in the kingdom knew the imposing frame and distinctive blue and red paintjob with its unique flame decals. Calm blue optics gazed at him knowingly as if their owner knew every facet of the silver mech’s personality.
“So you are the mech who has captured my brother’s spark.” It was clearly an observation, not an inquiry. The smooth deep baritone of the blue and red mech had a compelling quality to it when he finally spoke.
Completely unashamed, Jazz answered honestly, returning the future Prime’s gaze. “Yes, your highness.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have your silver aft thrown out of the city to separate the two of you permanently.” A note of steel rang in the future Prime’s voice as he regarded Jazz with narrowed optics.
Jazz bristled at the words, his visor flashing dangerously. “’Cause it would hurt Prowl if ya did. I love him and I won’t let anyone hurt him like that.” His claws flexed in an unconscious movement.
Optimus had caught the subtle movement and was looking at the smaller mech pointedly. “Prowl is a grown mech and a capable warrior. He hardly needs you to protect him, jester.”
Jazz sniffed. “Prowl may not need a protector, but he needs someone who accepts and loves him for what he is.”
“And what is he to you?” Optimus inquired calmly.
The answer came without thinking, without pause. “The other half ta my spark, the one I’d do anythin’ for. I know he appears cold sometimes, but that ain’t who he is at the core. Prowl’s one of the most caring bots I’ve ever met even if he doesn’t like to show it. Thanks to that combined wit’ his keen sense of duty and discipline ya have a very self sacrificin’ mech who’d do anything ta keep the ones he loves safe no matter tha personal cost. He’s reserved to the point of bein’ shy, which only makes him even more sweet, and he’s possibly the smartest bot on Cybertron.” A smile softened the expression on Jazz’s face before it hardened again with resolve when he stepped closer to the tall mech, to make sure the other knew he meant every word. “The hardest workin’ to. He deserves ta be happy and I’m gonna make sure he is, even if I have ta get past ya and the whole of Cybertron.”
Optimus nodded, if not in agreement, then at least to acknowledge the mech’s speech. “Personally I am inclined to believe you, but I am a bot and bots err. There are many who would like to call Prowl their bonded just because of his status and titles.”
“I don’t care about that. Ya Iacon bots are so stuck in yar caste system, that ya’ve lost all sense of proportion, of what’s really important. Money doesn’t buy me happiness, and social status doesn’t get me real friends.” He pointed toward his chestplates. “Spark is what counts. So wit’ all due respect, your highness, but what happens between Prowler and me ain’t none of your business. We’re both grown mechs and we love each other, rank and politics ain’t got nothing to do with it.”
“And in the event that Prowl would fail at the trials…” Optimus’ voice trailed off meaningfully.
“I’d still stay with him. I’ll follow him wherever he goes, Praxus or not.” What would it take to make the future Prime see that he meant what he said? There was an air of white dignity about him that even his father could not pull off. Something about him drew Jazz in, made him wish for the other’s approval. Despite his misgivings about Iacon society, Jazz felt that this was a mech he could follow. Maybe Cybertron’s was about to change a lot.
His facial expression remained stern, unrelenting. “So you say, jester.”
“My name is Jazz, your majesty. I know that nothing I can say will convince ya if ya choose not ta believe me. But even if ya never do, even if no one does, I’ll stick wit’ Prowler as long as he wants me around. The only one who could send me away is him.”
Finally Optimus smiled at the smaller. “We are in agreement then. That was all I wanted to hear. Still, should I ever get so much as an inkling that your sentiments are false, that you are hurting my brother, be assured that I will not hesitate to take steps.” His voice never rose in anger, remaining steady and calm, though there was no mistaking the threat contained in it. Jazz could respect that wish to protect, since he more than shared it. Nodding, he accepted the warning.
For a moment it looked as if Optimus was going to say, but once more the sound of a horn rent the air and a more forceful ping rang along broad band comms of the area. To Jazz’s everlasting astonishment they parted with a handshake, a greeting between to equals, instead of Optimus just turning and leaving.
Well, it seemed as if he and Prowl would have at least one supporter if he read Optimus right. The mech was still cautious, but at least he was open to the idea that Jazz wasn’t just after Prowl’s titles and wealth.
Meanwhile, on his way back to the camp, Optimus went over his conversation with Jazz again. He would make some discreet inquiries to be safe, but he had a feeling, no he was sure they would prove not to have been necessary. There had been no deception in the jester’s field or optics. He might not have the matrix yet, but he trusted his intuition and it told him the silver mech could be trusted.
Yet it also told him that their troubles had only just begun.
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They were a study in contrast, but each impressive in their own right. Where one was streamlined and sleek giving the impression of speed even when he was driving slowly, the other exuded power thanks to his bulk and strong lines. Even their colour schemes couldn’t have been more different: one simple and elegant in black and white with the occasional red or gold highlight, while the other’s red and blue colouring seemed designed to draw attention. Never were those contrasts between the two princes more obvious then when they drove side by side like they did then.
The hunting party was on its way back to the palace, everyone driving back in vehicle mode. The convoy consisted of several smaller groups of vehicles in all shapes and sizes. One such groups was made up of Optimus and Prowl, with their respective pair of guards surrounding them to make sure that if anyone tried to reach the princes, they would have to go through the warriors first. Their group had fallen back a little, since both princes were determined to enjoy the drive for as long as they could. They also had no desire to be drawn into the rather lively discussions going on over who was the best hunter, whose hounds were the fastest and fiercest, etc.
It also allowed them to talk to one another without any bot eavesdropping on their conversation, whether on purpose or by accident. The future Prime opted not to wait longer and drove closer to his brother.
“I had a very interesting encounter while I was looking for you, by the way.” Optimus spoke up. Somehow he felt that what he planned to talk about needed the weight of actual words, not signals over a comm. Because however this conversation ended, it was important.
“You did?” Prowl’s tone of voice was perfectly neutral.
“Indeed. I met a mech from court in a clearing. I think you know him.” The older brother prodded gently, making sure their voices were pitched so they were only audible to the two of them, but drowned in the sound of their engines, or rather Optimus’, since Prowl’s ran very silently (there was a reason the Praxian was named Prowl, after all).
“There are many mechs in this hunting party I know from court. All of them, to be precise. You will have to elaborate, Optimus.” Not even a hint of the apprehension Prowl was beginning to feel was to be heard.
“He was silver in colour, and among his more memorable features are a dark blue visor and spiky helm fins…”
Was it the blue and red mech’s imagination or had Prowl swerved slightly on the road? “Optimus-,”
Now his younger brother had sounded rather off, so he rushed to reassure him, before Prowl could become too upset. Unfortunately his battle computer was very good at coming up with worst case scenarios among other things. “Don’t worry, Prowl, I do not wish to get you into trouble. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about the mech you obviously love.”
There was a pause before Prowl responded, clearly astonished. “How do you know?”
Had they been in mech form, Prowl would probably have been gaping. The thought made Optimus chuckle. “That you love him? I saw the two of you in the clearing and I talked to Jazz after you were gone. He rather impressed me, I have to admit. I was fully prepared kick his aft to the pit, but having met him, I can see why you fell in love with him.”
“You are not angry?” Did Prowl even realize how plaintive he had sounded in that very moment? Most likely not. In addition, the truck was to some extent appalled that his brother thought he would resent him for falling in love with someone who was not of a noble caste. He would have to make sure Prowl understood that he would be there for him.
“Angry? Why should I be? You found your sparkmate, little brother, this is an occasion for rejoicing. Though I have to admit I’m somewhat disappointed that you didn’t tell me.” It stung a little, but he could understand why Prowl would be careful.
“I wanted to, but I was afraid you would not understand. After all, he hails from a much lower caste than we do.”
“Do you really think I would have judged you both so harshly?” Optimus was slightly aghast. “You know I share your views about the caste system. It’s rubbish, for Primus’ sake!”
“My behavior was illogical, I am aware of that, but… ” the smaller mech made a move to continue several times, but he paused every time, as if unsure what to say. Optimus knew that talking about emotions was a difficult subject for the other, who was more inclined toward logic and reason. He had a feeling he knew what bothered Prowl the most though.
“You feared to be separated, didn’t you.”
Prowl’s engine whined almost imperceptively in distress. Swiftly and gently Optimus extended his own field to touch Prowl’s and comfort him as if wrapping him in a soothing hug. He was gratified when Prowl sidled up closer to him and answered with a pulse of his own, returning the gesture. Neither of them made a move to separate from the other, Prowl enjoying the fact that he didn’t have to hide from his brother anymore, and Optimus basking in the fact that the black and white was letting him fuss. The doorwinger was usually so reserved and self sufficient that he rarely sought out comfort anymore, as he had done when he was still a sparkling.
Checking his sensors he made sure that no one had seen or heard anything. Optimus went over what he had learned that day. There was only one thing left to be done really. “I don’t know what I can do, but whatever happens, should you need my help, you need only ask.”
“Thank you, brother.” Prowl whispered, conveying his gratitude over their connection.
Content that they had resolved what they could, Optimus drove on. One small detail kept niggling at him though. “So how are the two of you going to tell father about this?”
“Beats me.”
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes II: The conversation between Jazz and Optimus is still not entirely right, but it’s the best I could do for now and this already took long enough.
So what did you think?
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Optimus relished this moment. It was only rarely that he had the time to be alone with himself and his thoughts and enjoy the scenery in peace. Step after step led him away from the hunting party and deeper into the woods. A light breeze moved some of the lighter crystal clusters to rustle, causing a musical tinkling sound. The scent of the wild crystal trees and bushes was invigorating. Somewhere off to the left a flock of turbobirds was warning away the intruder. It was invigorating.
Watching the play of light and shadows around him Optimus resolved to take Elita with him soon, so they could enjoy the tranquility together. He knew she would enjoy it as much as he did.
Busy planning their future outing Optimus returned his attention to what he was actually here for: looking for his younger brother. Somehow Prowl had, very true to his name, snuck away without anyone the wiser as to where he was going. No one had realized yet, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, after pinging Prowl’s comm. signal had only resulted in a very politely phrased version of “Leave me alone” as an answer, had felt the need to tell someone. Theoretically they should have informed the Prime first, not the crown prince, but telling Sentinel would probably have resulted in trouble and lectures, and that was the last thing the three wanted for Prowl right now. The black and white seemed to have enough on his plate already.
For that reason Optimus had sent Ironhide and Kup, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker out to quietly look for the errant prince and bring him back before the Prime realized he had disappeared on his own. Optimus himself had struck out on his own, too. Maybe he would be lucky.
Ruefully chuckling to himself, the red and blue mech had to admit that if Prowl didn’t want to be found, he really knew how to stay under the radar. So far he hadn’t found plating nor paint of the black and white doorwinger.
He was ready to give up on searching in this direction when his audios picked up a faint sound. Deciding to investigate Optimus turned into the direction it came from and soon came to a clearing. Abruptly he stopped, not believing his optics. He rebooted them and looked again, but the scene hadn’t changed at all.
Optimus had found Prowl.
But the Praxian wasn’t alone.
There was another mech, with a silver frame and a blue visor, chasing after his little brother. His first instinct was to charge into the clearing and come to the black and white’s aid, but all processing ground to a halt as he realized that Prowl was openly laughing. Not just smiling that barely there smile of his, but outright laughing with the silver mech running after him. He recognized the action for the game it was, especially when Prowl finally decided that enough was enough and slowed just a little so the taller mech could wrap his arms around him.
The mech was holding Prowl in his arms, stroking his cheek. Whatever the mech said, it made Prowl smile and sink into the embrace even more, not resisting when the taller mech leaned down to kiss the prince. And Prowl didn’t turn away, instead he looped his arms around the others neck and returned the kiss. Transfixed, Optimus watched the two. Prowl was openly smiling, his doorwings fluttering. He had never seen his younger brother so happy.
So this was the mech that had captured Prowl’s spark.
He appeared friendly enough, Optimus concluded after watching the couple interact for a few moments, and also somewhat familiar. Soon enough he realized he had seen the other mech before, at court to be precise, but not among the nobles. It took him only a second until he remembered where exactly he had seen the silver mech before and immediately felt like hitting himself. So he was what had Prowl so distracted at that court dinner before that fateful visit to medbay.
Unwilling to disturb the couple, Optimus silently melted back into the underbrush, settling in to wait for as long as it took. He would talk to Prowl later, once they were back at the palace. But first he had to corner a certain silver mech…
While Optimus retreated a few steps to give the couple some privacy (still staying close enough to intervene should the silver mech decide to overstep some boundaries, that was his little brother over there in the clearing after all), the two oblivious bots kissed on.
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Reveling in each others’ presence and closeness, neither of them wanted to be anywhere else. Even so, their time together was limited, which made those moments all the more precious to them.
Prowl couldn’t help the way his wings fluttered when he was being held. It felt nice to be able to let go, not to have to be in control of himself and his surroundings all the time, knowing there was someone who would catch him, shield him, cherish him even when he couldn’t be perfect.
A sound from the distance shattered the peace. It was a signal from the royal hunting party, bidding all its members return to the camp.
Reluctantly they parted from their embrace, but both knew that Prowl would have to return now, so his absence would not raise any suspicions. As much as they wanted to be together, if they were discovered now, Sentinel would not hesitate to separate them at once.
“Will I see you in the garden again this evening?” Prowl asked, his voice conveying how much he craved to be able to meet again. Jazz could not understand why some bots called the prince emotionless or stoic to the point of being cold. If one listened or watched closely, his emotions were there to see in the movements of his wings and in the sound of his voice.
“As soon as practice is over and I can give the others the slip I’ll be there, Sparkles, I promise. Wouldn’t dream of missing it.” The jester sealed his promise with a playful kiss to the tip of Prowl’s nose, almost laughing at the adorable expression on the other’s face. But then everything about Prowl was adorable to him… Primus, he’d really fallen hard for the black and white.
Stepping away slowly, they held onto each other with their servos until they absolutely had to let go, before Prowl turned and walked to the edge of the clearing.
Grinning happily Jazz watched every one of Prowl’s movements, waving enthusiastically when Prowl turned back into his direction once and smiled upon seeing the jester watching him. He waited until the black and white was completely out of sight, before he readied himself for his return to the city. He was already late for his practice with Blaster, but the prospect of spending some time with Prowl was well worth a little hurry.
A song on his lips he turned into the direction he had come from only for the melody to cease abruptly when he came face to face with another mech. Jazz froze, instantly recognizing the other mech for who he was. It would have been hard for him not to know the other’s identity. Everyone in the kingdom knew the imposing frame and distinctive blue and red paintjob with its unique flame decals. Calm blue optics gazed at him knowingly as if their owner knew every facet of the silver mech’s personality.
“So you are the mech who has captured my brother’s spark.” It was clearly an observation, not an inquiry. The smooth deep baritone of the blue and red mech had a compelling quality to it when he finally spoke.
Completely unashamed, Jazz answered honestly, returning the future Prime’s gaze. “Yes, your highness.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have your silver aft thrown out of the city to separate the two of you permanently.” A note of steel rang in the future Prime’s voice as he regarded Jazz with narrowed optics.
Jazz bristled at the words, his visor flashing dangerously. “’Cause it would hurt Prowl if ya did. I love him and I won’t let anyone hurt him like that.” His claws flexed in an unconscious movement.
Optimus had caught the subtle movement and was looking at the smaller mech pointedly. “Prowl is a grown mech and a capable warrior. He hardly needs you to protect him, jester.”
Jazz sniffed. “Prowl may not need a protector, but he needs someone who accepts and loves him for what he is.”
“And what is he to you?” Optimus inquired calmly.
The answer came without thinking, without pause. “The other half ta my spark, the one I’d do anythin’ for. I know he appears cold sometimes, but that ain’t who he is at the core. Prowl’s one of the most caring bots I’ve ever met even if he doesn’t like to show it. Thanks to that combined wit’ his keen sense of duty and discipline ya have a very self sacrificin’ mech who’d do anything ta keep the ones he loves safe no matter tha personal cost. He’s reserved to the point of bein’ shy, which only makes him even more sweet, and he’s possibly the smartest bot on Cybertron.” A smile softened the expression on Jazz’s face before it hardened again with resolve when he stepped closer to the tall mech, to make sure the other knew he meant every word. “The hardest workin’ to. He deserves ta be happy and I’m gonna make sure he is, even if I have ta get past ya and the whole of Cybertron.”
Optimus nodded, if not in agreement, then at least to acknowledge the mech’s speech. “Personally I am inclined to believe you, but I am a bot and bots err. There are many who would like to call Prowl their bonded just because of his status and titles.”
“I don’t care about that. Ya Iacon bots are so stuck in yar caste system, that ya’ve lost all sense of proportion, of what’s really important. Money doesn’t buy me happiness, and social status doesn’t get me real friends.” He pointed toward his chestplates. “Spark is what counts. So wit’ all due respect, your highness, but what happens between Prowler and me ain’t none of your business. We’re both grown mechs and we love each other, rank and politics ain’t got nothing to do with it.”
“And in the event that Prowl would fail at the trials…” Optimus’ voice trailed off meaningfully.
“I’d still stay with him. I’ll follow him wherever he goes, Praxus or not.” What would it take to make the future Prime see that he meant what he said? There was an air of white dignity about him that even his father could not pull off. Something about him drew Jazz in, made him wish for the other’s approval. Despite his misgivings about Iacon society, Jazz felt that this was a mech he could follow. Maybe Cybertron’s was about to change a lot.
His facial expression remained stern, unrelenting. “So you say, jester.”
“My name is Jazz, your majesty. I know that nothing I can say will convince ya if ya choose not ta believe me. But even if ya never do, even if no one does, I’ll stick wit’ Prowler as long as he wants me around. The only one who could send me away is him.”
Finally Optimus smiled at the smaller. “We are in agreement then. That was all I wanted to hear. Still, should I ever get so much as an inkling that your sentiments are false, that you are hurting my brother, be assured that I will not hesitate to take steps.” His voice never rose in anger, remaining steady and calm, though there was no mistaking the threat contained in it. Jazz could respect that wish to protect, since he more than shared it. Nodding, he accepted the warning.
For a moment it looked as if Optimus was going to say, but once more the sound of a horn rent the air and a more forceful ping rang along broad band comms of the area. To Jazz’s everlasting astonishment they parted with a handshake, a greeting between to equals, instead of Optimus just turning and leaving.
Well, it seemed as if he and Prowl would have at least one supporter if he read Optimus right. The mech was still cautious, but at least he was open to the idea that Jazz wasn’t just after Prowl’s titles and wealth.
Meanwhile, on his way back to the camp, Optimus went over his conversation with Jazz again. He would make some discreet inquiries to be safe, but he had a feeling, no he was sure they would prove not to have been necessary. There had been no deception in the jester’s field or optics. He might not have the matrix yet, but he trusted his intuition and it told him the silver mech could be trusted.
Yet it also told him that their troubles had only just begun.
XXXXX
They were a study in contrast, but each impressive in their own right. Where one was streamlined and sleek giving the impression of speed even when he was driving slowly, the other exuded power thanks to his bulk and strong lines. Even their colour schemes couldn’t have been more different: one simple and elegant in black and white with the occasional red or gold highlight, while the other’s red and blue colouring seemed designed to draw attention. Never were those contrasts between the two princes more obvious then when they drove side by side like they did then.
The hunting party was on its way back to the palace, everyone driving back in vehicle mode. The convoy consisted of several smaller groups of vehicles in all shapes and sizes. One such groups was made up of Optimus and Prowl, with their respective pair of guards surrounding them to make sure that if anyone tried to reach the princes, they would have to go through the warriors first. Their group had fallen back a little, since both princes were determined to enjoy the drive for as long as they could. They also had no desire to be drawn into the rather lively discussions going on over who was the best hunter, whose hounds were the fastest and fiercest, etc.
It also allowed them to talk to one another without any bot eavesdropping on their conversation, whether on purpose or by accident. The future Prime opted not to wait longer and drove closer to his brother.
“I had a very interesting encounter while I was looking for you, by the way.” Optimus spoke up. Somehow he felt that what he planned to talk about needed the weight of actual words, not signals over a comm. Because however this conversation ended, it was important.
“You did?” Prowl’s tone of voice was perfectly neutral.
“Indeed. I met a mech from court in a clearing. I think you know him.” The older brother prodded gently, making sure their voices were pitched so they were only audible to the two of them, but drowned in the sound of their engines, or rather Optimus’, since Prowl’s ran very silently (there was a reason the Praxian was named Prowl, after all).
“There are many mechs in this hunting party I know from court. All of them, to be precise. You will have to elaborate, Optimus.” Not even a hint of the apprehension Prowl was beginning to feel was to be heard.
“He was silver in colour, and among his more memorable features are a dark blue visor and spiky helm fins…”
Was it the blue and red mech’s imagination or had Prowl swerved slightly on the road? “Optimus-,”
Now his younger brother had sounded rather off, so he rushed to reassure him, before Prowl could become too upset. Unfortunately his battle computer was very good at coming up with worst case scenarios among other things. “Don’t worry, Prowl, I do not wish to get you into trouble. I just want to know why you didn’t tell me about the mech you obviously love.”
There was a pause before Prowl responded, clearly astonished. “How do you know?”
Had they been in mech form, Prowl would probably have been gaping. The thought made Optimus chuckle. “That you love him? I saw the two of you in the clearing and I talked to Jazz after you were gone. He rather impressed me, I have to admit. I was fully prepared kick his aft to the pit, but having met him, I can see why you fell in love with him.”
“You are not angry?” Did Prowl even realize how plaintive he had sounded in that very moment? Most likely not. In addition, the truck was to some extent appalled that his brother thought he would resent him for falling in love with someone who was not of a noble caste. He would have to make sure Prowl understood that he would be there for him.
“Angry? Why should I be? You found your sparkmate, little brother, this is an occasion for rejoicing. Though I have to admit I’m somewhat disappointed that you didn’t tell me.” It stung a little, but he could understand why Prowl would be careful.
“I wanted to, but I was afraid you would not understand. After all, he hails from a much lower caste than we do.”
“Do you really think I would have judged you both so harshly?” Optimus was slightly aghast. “You know I share your views about the caste system. It’s rubbish, for Primus’ sake!”
“My behavior was illogical, I am aware of that, but… ” the smaller mech made a move to continue several times, but he paused every time, as if unsure what to say. Optimus knew that talking about emotions was a difficult subject for the other, who was more inclined toward logic and reason. He had a feeling he knew what bothered Prowl the most though.
“You feared to be separated, didn’t you.”
Prowl’s engine whined almost imperceptively in distress. Swiftly and gently Optimus extended his own field to touch Prowl’s and comfort him as if wrapping him in a soothing hug. He was gratified when Prowl sidled up closer to him and answered with a pulse of his own, returning the gesture. Neither of them made a move to separate from the other, Prowl enjoying the fact that he didn’t have to hide from his brother anymore, and Optimus basking in the fact that the black and white was letting him fuss. The doorwinger was usually so reserved and self sufficient that he rarely sought out comfort anymore, as he had done when he was still a sparkling.
Checking his sensors he made sure that no one had seen or heard anything. Optimus went over what he had learned that day. There was only one thing left to be done really. “I don’t know what I can do, but whatever happens, should you need my help, you need only ask.”
“Thank you, brother.” Prowl whispered, conveying his gratitude over their connection.
Content that they had resolved what they could, Optimus drove on. One small detail kept niggling at him though. “So how are the two of you going to tell father about this?”
“Beats me.”
To Be Continued
Author’s Notes II: The conversation between Jazz and Optimus is still not entirely right, but it’s the best I could do for now and this already took long enough.
So what did you think?