The Jester Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Bin der Narrenkönig
Author: Thalanee
Verse: AU Bayverse
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 1553
Other Characters: Blaster, a black and white Praxian, mentions of Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Ironhide
Warnings: Jazz and Blaster mangling the English language (hope I got their accents right… remotely at least)
Summary: Jazz enters the stage
Author’s Notes: A great thanks to all the people who read, reviewed and faved (on ff.net) this story (or put it on story alert)! You’re great.
XXXXX
Possen reißend, Witze machend, ich so manches Herz erfreu‘
Den Ball jonglierend, Feuer spuckend unterhalte ich die Leut‘
Des Hofes König, Königin und ihre zarte Tochter
Weil ich der Narr des Hofes bin, ein Clown ein ausgekochter.
Playing antics, cracking jokes I regale many a heart
Juggling balls, firebreathing I entertain the people
The court’s king, queen and their gentle daughter
For I am the court’s jester, a clown, a crafty one
XXXXX
Jazz had long ago decided that being an entertainer at the Lord Prime’s court was the best job a bot could wish for. The silver mech was paid to do what he loved to do most: make other bots laugh. Lifting others’ spirits when they were sad and seeing a smile appear where previously tears had fallen made him insanely happy. His azure visor would glow in satisfaction at a funny story or a joke prompting giggles or laughter. Wherever he went he would talk to bots, noble or servant, that didn’t matter to him. In short he was a very social mech.
As he made his way through the various parts of the Lord Sentinel Prime’s palace -a huge compound consisting of countless buildings, towers, courtyards and gardens- to the little crystal garden he had discovered a short time ago, he let his thoughts wander.
Soon after receiving his final upgrades he had left his home with his creators’ blessings to do what he had always wanted to do: be a jester at the Lord Prime’s court, where he could meet bots from all the realms of Cybertron, be they groundbound bots like him or fliers, merchant or warriors, medics and scientists. Getting the job hadn’t been as easy as a young optimistic Jazz had anticipated. He’d had to work hard to prove his worth as an entertainer, even more so because he wasn’t supposed to become one. The caste system reigning in Iacon demanded that he do what his creators and their creators before them had done -which would have meant work as a merchant- or at least do another kind of work acceptable for the middle caste, but Jazz had thrown tradition out the window.
It wasn’t his anyway. The bots of Polyhex were a spirited and free minded people who didn’t give the caste system much thought. They acknowledged its existence, but nothing more. It held no sway over them, hardly influenced the way people lived or worked. And Jazz wasn’t about to let an outdated system of belief dictate how he should live.
The silver mech had his spark set on becoming an entertainer, a jester, which meant singing, dancing, acrobatics, jokes and telling stories. All things he enjoyed very much, but regarding to the caste system, they were “beneath” him. His creators had supported him in ignoring a system he found confining and unfair. When he had come to Iacon he had actually been appalled that some bots even praised a system that was so blatantly and in-your-faceplate unfair.
Yet in the end he had succeeded. He had even found his best friend here at the Court. Blaster and he had hit it right of on their first meeting. What had started as a heated discussion about various music styles, soon ended in a close friendship.
“Yo, Jazzman!” Speaking of Unicron… Jazz grinned to himself while turning to the red tapedeck who had called him.
“Hey Blaster, what’s up mech?”
The Musician stopped beside him and threw an arm around the silver mech’s shoulders. “Just wanted to ask ya, if you’re gonna join the band and me for practice in a couple of joors. There’s this new number we want to try out if you’re game.”
“Sure, I’ll be there.” Jazz answered. “Out’a curiosity, that new number of yours doesn’t happen ta be Sideswipe’s?” The mock glower directed at Blaster could have melted walls. Jazz still had to keep from wincing in mortified embarrassment every time he thought of The Incident. An overenergized Sideswipe trying to help an equally overenergized Blaster to come up with new ideas for his show didn’t mix well. Suffice to say that cans of paint and glitter and rubber bands had also been involved.
Blaster cringed at the implication. “Do Ah look like Ah’m suicidal? The rampage Sunny went on was impressive ‘nough ta make sure Ah’m gonna think twice before doing somethin’ like that again.”
“Just teasin’, mech.” The jester grinned broadly, his azure visor glowing bright in amusement.
“Some friend ya are!” The mock affronted exclamation was accompanied by a light shove to a silver plated shoulder. “Actually Ah was talking ‘bout that new piece Ah wrote. It’s a duet and Ah know your voice would fit one of tha main parts perfectly.”
“Say no more, ma friend. I’ll meet ya in the concert hall then, but right now, there’s somethin’ I gotta take care of.”
“Ya’re sneakin’ round the palace grounds again, aren’t ya?”
“I’m not sneakin’ around, I’m explorin’ and I found this nice place a couple o’ days ago, I want to visit again.” Jazz explained in a reasonable tone.
The tapedeck wasn’t fooled in the least. “Just don’t get yaself caught. Remember tha lecture Ironhide gave ya?”
A snort from the silver mech was his answer. “’Course I do. Don’t worry, man, I’ve learned ma lesson. Gotta go now, see ya later!” The jester waved his friend good bye and continued on his way to the inner parts of the palace, always taking care to be inconspicuous, because strictly speaking he wasn’t allowed in that part of the palace without an invitation.
Being friends with the guards and the servants and occasionally helping them out with their tasks he knew his way around and knew to appear inconspicuous enough not to be noticed. Not that most of the nobles ever looked twice (or even once) at him. When he ventured into the inner parts at all he always visited the gardens hidden there, which were among the most beautiful on the planet.
Jazz favourite though was a little garden he had found only a couple of days ago. It was an exotic little jewel, only made of Praxian crystals in the most glorious colours and fantastic shapes. In between the crystals floated little pockets of azure and sapphire coloured gases and crystal dust, so it appeared as if the crystals actually floated in the sky. Some of them even changed their colour in the course of the day, so it never really looked the same twice. In the middle of the garden overgrown with deep red and green crystals was a little pavillon made of a gleaming white metal. The display was dazzling.
And yet, no one seemed to know about the garden. When Jazz had tried to find out who tended the garden, none of the gardeners knew what he was talking about and thought he was just pulling their legs. Of the other servants there were a couple who knew it existed, but they wouldn’t say anything when he asked and only told him to stay away. Not that Jazz listened of course.
His own curiosity wouldn’t let him rest.
Taking care not to draw attention to himself, Jazz finally reached the gate at the entrance of the little garden, and was just about to enter when he stopped abruptly.
A faint song could be heard coming from within the garden, and as soon as he heard it the sensors in his audio horns homed in on the sound, intent on catching every single note.
The jester was transfixed. Never before had he heard such a sparkbreakingly beautiful voice. It wove around him, haunting him, soaring in the air. Without consciously having decided to move, his body did so anyway and with each step closer to the source of that heavenly sound the tones rippled across his plating in ever more intensity.
Feeling his spark pulsing in his chassis Jazz surrepticiously crept closer, so as not to alert the singer to his presence and stop bringing forth that wonderful music. Also he didn’t want the singer to leave without finding out who he was. Slowly but steadily creeping toward the origin of the sounds without a noise, Jazz finally stopped.
Under a large crystal tree of a pale golden colour, a bot was tending some of the smaller crystals. The black and white bot was small, just a bit smaller than Jazz himself actually and his slender frame was nicely accentuated by the bots smooth lines and curves. A crimson chevron and a few splashes of red and gold perfected the look. What really caught Jazz attention though were the wings that adorned his back: the white appendages gave him an ethereal appearance. Absently he noted that they were gently fluttering in time with the music.
A soft sigh of appreciation escaped the silver bot before he could stop himself.
Abruptly the singing stopped and the mech whirled around (exceptionally gracefully in the jester’s humble opinion) to face Jazz. Mesmerized the jester found himself staring into slightly slanted optics of a deep golden colour. They widened when the winged bot saw Jazz.
Their gazes locked…
To be continued.
Ann.: Yes, I’m really into the idea of Prowl having a wonderful singing voice… Hope you liked.