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The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation	By : TheGatekat Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 2755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 9
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- 11
The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation 10: Proving Heritage

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"Are you ready?" Prowl drew his carrying mate against him for a gentle kiss. Merging before witness, even a High Priest of Primus, was never a comfortable thing.
"As I'll ever be." Jazz sighed, nuzzling at Prowl as the kiss ended. He understood the why of what they had to do, but it still didn't make it something he wanted to do.
The semi-public merge served many purposes. It was confirmation before a witness of Primus of their bond, confirmation that the sparkling Jazz carried was indeed sired by Prowl and therefore eligible to be named Heir to the House, and it would provide a blessing on the sparkling and the carrier so that the sparkling would separate strong and healthy.
Jazz checked the time and stole another kiss. "We need to be leaving soon if we don't want to keep the priest waiting."
"We have time for you to see my gift first," Prowl smiled and kissed Jazz's forehelm. "It just arrived."
Excitement flared across the bond, Jazz having grown more curious over the span of the few orns as Prowl had teased him with the impending gift. "Yes!" Jazz was willing to even be a little late to the temple for this.
Prowl chuckled and drew him towards the entry room of their suite. "Turn off your optics."
Jazz obeyed, fully trusting Prowl as he powered down his optics, visor going dark. The rest of his senses flared in reaction to the loss of vision, field reaching out to latch on to his mate and his audio senses sharpening to compensate as he was led with gentle care through the door.
Half way across the room Jazz felt Prowl stop, then his hand on a shoulder kept Jazz where he was as Prowl walked behind him to embrace him.
"You can turn your optics on now," Prowl purred in Jazz audio, his field rich with excitement.
There was a brief flicker as Jazz's vision returned, and then a flare of utter disbelief and pure joy across the bond as Jazz started to tremble in Prowl's arms at the sight before him. "Steelplate!"
"I requested he come to my employ, as your personal servant and caretaker of our sparklings," Prowl smiled and kissed the side of Jazz helm. "When we bonded I understood what he meant to you."
Jazz was torn between turning and kissing his mate senseless and pulling free and launching himself across the room to greet his mentor as his spark sang with joy. Prowl help him decide with a gentle push into Steelplate's welcoming arms.
Jazz fell into the welcoming embrace, strong arms catching and cradling him easily as the elder mech smiled down at the handsome adult that had once been his charge with pride.
"My lord Jazz." The deep rumbling voice was so full of parental affection the formal words lost all of their stiffness as Steelplate set Jazz back on his feet for a better look. "I was very glad I had not accepted the position as young Sailsong's caretaker when Lord Prowl contacted me."
Jazz had to smile at the mention of his brother's youngest creation, the sparkling's interrupted attempt to attach herself to Jazz's leg at the bonding ceremony still a private source of amusement. "I am very glad you accepted the position here." Jazz answered, his field touching the long familiar one of his old guardian with joy as thanks-joy-disbelief continued to flow in waves across the bond Jazz shared with his mate.
Prowl could only smile at the scene, and especially at the emotions flowing from the bond. "There will be plenty of time for a full reunion when we return," he reached out to place a hand on Jazz's shoulder before looking at Steelplate. "Has Softlight shown you to your quarters?"
"Yes, Lord Prowl," Steelplate inclined his helm smoothly. "Your slaves have been most helpful."
"Good," Prowl accepted the statement for the truth. It was no less than he expected of the pair. "Jazz will have time to catch up with you when we return."
With a final squeeze of his mentor's hand Jazz stepped back, acknowledging their need to leave but promising that he would find the time to talk with the elder mech when they returned.
He reached up to catch's Prowl's hand, his willingness to go present in the bond now. A gentle, chaste kiss was delivered before Prowl straightened and the commanding aura he put on in public settled on him.
The drive to the temple where they had been bonded was a short one with little traffic. Once again Jazz was grateful that the guards that were always present when either of them left the compound were content to give them space. They were there, but they weren't in his personal space. It made adjusting the fact that he was likely going to have an escort for the rest of his functioning easier to deal with.
The temple itself was quiet that morning as well, with a few other mecha visiting for their own personal reasons and the temple staff and servants of Primus going about their routine with the smoothness of vorns of familiarity.
The pair transformed and made their way across the courtyard and up the stairs of the main temple complex to find the Head Priest of the Temple of Praxus.
Prowl's field brushed against his, offering support and reassurance even as the bond told Jazz just as clearly that his mate was as uneasy about this as he was. Interfacing in front of a stranger was ... weird. Slightly more familiar to Prowl, but he had always been overcharged and celebrating those times.
The return touch was resigned to the necessity and only accepting of it because of the circumstances. It was only in front of the priest and only with his bonded, and since Jazz intended to forget about their audience as quickly as possible by loosing himself in Prowl and the merge, he wasn't as disturbed about the entire ordeal as he might have been otherwise.
"Lord Prowl, Lord Jazz." The pair were approached by a final stage mechling, his frame and demeanor marking him as an acolyte of the temple who nodded respectfully once he was sure he had their attention. "If you would follow me please?"
Prowl made a fractional cant of his wings on acknowledgment and followed the youth through the temple to a crystalline room at the center of the temple. The shape was that of a spark chamber, the floor that supported the alter was completely transparent, giving the sensation of floating in the center of a giant spark chamber.
"Greetings, children of Primus," a soft, resonant and warmly welcoming voice greeted them before they spotted the rich red Praxian femme that was the High Priest of Primus in Praxus. "Come forward so we may begin the blessing."
Jazz's fingers twisted tighter with Prowl's, uneasy for no reason that he could identify as the acolyte vanished, leaving them to make their way before the High Priest in the center of the room. It was a strange sensation to have your pedes tell you you were firmly on the ground and your optics and sensors telling you you were floating in the middle of a giant spark chamber.
The tall, slender Praxian smiled warmly at the couple and placed a hand lightly on each of their chest plates, over their sparks. "I understand you are here to receive a blessing for your creation that it may serve your House as Lord Prowl's heir-apparent."
"Yes, High Priest," Prowl responded with a deep dip of his wings.
"All that is required is that you merge on the alter," she said gently, long accustomed to the nerves of those who came to this room. "You are welcome to anything else that makes you comfortable."
Jazz steadied himself, shivering a bit at the touch of her hand over his spark, and the small surge of his spark in his chest in response. He bowed his head, reaching out to Prowl. ~Just need you.~
~As I only need you,~ Prowl brushed his mate's spark with a wave of support, but also with a sense of what he intended to do to warm up for the merge.
Her hands fell away with a smile and she stepped back, intent on disappearing from the couple's awareness.
Prowl turned to Jazz and kissed him gently, chaste in the first contact, as he drew the other mech towards the barely visible berth-sized alter.
His mate followed along willingly; eager to loose himself in the merge and Prowl and forget the odd place they found themselves in. He knew Prowl felt much the same despite the easy way the Praxian touched and guided him.
~Love you both,~ Prowl whispered over the bond as he deepened the kiss.
Jazz purred into the kiss, already loosing himself in the touches and the love and affection as they reached the alter.
~Our creations will be perfect for their place in existence,~ Prowl added, gently kneeling on the alter and drawing Jazz against him. His hands stroked down his mate's sides and back, seeking to make this more than a perfunctory performance. Though he shielded it from Jazz to a great extent, he knew they would be here many times and did not want Jazz to dread it. It would make kindling the next that much more difficult.
His mate's trust in him was complete, optics not straying from Prowl's face as black hands reached around to trace along Prowl's sides and find the Praxian's wings. ~Of course they will. They will be ours.~
Prowl smiled and kissed his way up to Jazz's visor, his lip plates a feather light touch and his moans vibrating the sensitive glass.
The sensation left Jazz gasping, moaning softly as his visor grew dim and he focused on the pleasure. Reservation faded, replaced with willingness and want of the touch of Prowl's spark against his own.
With a shiver of anticipation Prowl sent the command to part his this chest armor and open his spark chamber, his mate's mirroring the move almost in time with Prowl. This was something familiar and enjoyed- sought after, savored and cherished.
It was almost a need for Jazz, to feel Prowl on that level, and this early in their bonding still to reaffirm that connection between them. The first contact of their searching leaders drew moans of pleasure from them, but it was a pale expression of the pleasure and relief the pair felt as the intimate connection bloomed across their awareness.
~Love you,~ Prowl shuddered and pulled Jazz closer, forcing their coronas together.
Jazz keened softly, not that either of them were really able to hear it as their sparks touched, met, and merged. Jazz's love of his mate, his thankfulness for everything that Prowl did and was, blossomed across the connection.
The thanks for Prowl's gift, thanks that Jazz could not yet put into words, flared bright and true against Prowl's spark. The merge, the reason for it, and Jazz's hope for the sparkling he carried.
Around those emotions were Prowl's embrace and welcoming of them. The Praxian's hope for the sparkling, both this one specifically and for one they had in general. His gratitude that Jazz had been reasonable about his fate, his hope that they would build the kind of relationship that Prowl's creators had ... and that Jazz's brother's family seemed to have. His pleasure at how much Jazz appreciated his gifts. His thanks that even if Metronome became his bonded that Jazz would not take a disliking to her for things she could not control.
Awareness of their location faded to a hazy thought, the merge consuming them both with everything that it needed to be. A confirmation of what they were, a sharing of joy, new love, and the strong foundation of a functioning together.
Slowly it spiraled beyond word and conscious thought, shifting into the realm of feeling and oneness that marked a deep merge, building into overload that was pure bliss.
S S S S S S S S S===================S S S S S S S S S
Prowl's personal slaves studied the new arrival silently as they worked, evaluating the new addition to their lives and sending ripples through their routine once more. They had received few orders regarding the new mech, mostly consisting of seeing that he was settled in and taken care of. Their master had indicted that the new mech was to serve their master's new bonded and was a free mecha, but they were still watching him to decide if he was any threat to their position.
Silent discussion took place across the bond between them, optics flickering subtly in Steelplate's direction as they went about their normal work maintaining Prowl's quarters in silence and the older mech explored their home now that he had put his few belongings in one of the spare servant quarters attached to Prowl's suite.
"What are you duties for Lord Prowl?" Steelplate still managed to startle them when he came up while they were scrubbing the grand shower in the lavish washrack, a room that was far more indulgent and advanced than anything else in the Lord Heir's suite.
Both mech's paused at being addressed, though it was Surestrike who answered for them both, his optics not quite meeting Steelplate's. "Whatever our master demands of us, sir. We maintain his personal quarters and possessions, see to his person, attend to his needs when he travels, by priority. We also run errands and service him in the berth, when he requires."
"How did you come to be his?" Steelplate asked, his tone even, giving little away of what he thought of the use of slaves in the berth.
Only an experienced optic would have caught the small ripple that passed through Surestrike, the barest hint of a warrior's shame even after all these centuries of service and having come to accept his position in life.
It was Softlight who answered for his mate this time. "Conqueror's Law. Lord Prowl led the campaign where we were captured, and chose us from the those who had no one to speak for them to serve him."
"You must have impressed him," Steelplate spoke to Surestrike. "Of all the campaigns he's led and all the prisoners he has had a right to, he has only kept you and your mate."
The warrior slave nodded his helm in acknowledgement of the compliment being given. "It was the Lord's first campaign. He has brought others back as well, but always for the service of the House. It was the mercy of Primus that he saw us that orn."
To Surestrike, who had known the House he served was in the wrong, bringing their own destruction upon themselves in their continued defiance of the Prime, his freedom had been a small price for the continued functioning of his mate and the new spark that Softlight had been carrying at the time.
A soft hum of understanding greeted the statement. "You do not need to stop your work to speak to me," he told the pair gently but with the firmness of an order. He smiled slightly at them. "I'm not that type."
A flicker of relief passed between the two, Softlight falling back into cleaning far faster than his mate, who optics rose briefly to meet Steelplate's, just testing and clearly curious.
A brief nudge from his mate across the bond distracted him, and he began to scrub again. "Our capture was centuries ago. We have served Lord Prowl ever since." He supplied as he worked.
"Has he been kind to your creations?" Steelplate asked, taking in the washrack that was larger than his entire suite.
A quiet sound escaped Softlight, a mixture of sorrow and pride. "Our creation is a warrior of the House, strong and true in his service to his Lord."
"I am pleased to hear that," Steelplate said honestly. "Has Lord Jazz adapted to having slaves to serve him yet?"
The pair actually took a moment to consider that. "He did not seem surprised by our position or our service." Surestrike finally concluded.
"He has been little extra work, and always fair and kind." Softlight added as he finished the floor and moved to the back wall of the washrack. The small orange mech seemed to seriously consider his next words before speaking. "He did seem...unaccustomed...to being waited on."
"He is," Steelplate actually chuckled softly. "We come from a small House that did not have the servants to spare. He grew up to be quite self sufficient, much like his sire ... and I have gathered Lord Prowl is more often than not."
The bonded pair hummed softly in agreement as they made quick work finishing up the washrack and gathered their supplies to move on to their next task.
The glanced at each other before Surestrike focused on Steelplate, slowly growing more comfortable in the new mech's presence. "We had assumed that we would be seeing to our masters bonded's needs as well..."
"You likely will, at least what he decides not to do himself," Steelplate smiled as he casually followed to continue the conversation without disturbing their duties too much. "My specialty is with sparklings; a guardian, caretaker and early warrior training. It is what I did for Lord Jazz. I'm looking forward to doing the same for his creations as well."
The confirmation of what they had been told initially was a relief the pair, confirmation that Steelplate had no intention of encroaching on their duties. It also meant that Steelplate was likely not going anywhere any time soon, from what the slaves knew of their master's desires.
"You will be busy, and your services required often, in this House." Softlight commented as he busied himself straightening things down to the smallest detail to fit Prowl's specifications. "Our master favors the idea of a large family."
Steelplate actually purred at the thought. "So I have heard," he said. "I look forward to the challenge. Were you expecting to care for the sparklings?" he suddenly asked.
Surestrike shrugged. "We have always seen to our lord's personal matters. We had assumed that one day it would extend to caring for his creations as well."
"But guardian caretakers are not as effective if the creators do not trust them. It would seem better to have someone the lord's first bonded was comfortable with." Softlight commented, swiftly moving from familiar task to familiar task, never getting in the way of his mate as they worked.
"Perhaps when the lord takes another bonded, we will be called to serve." Surestrike agreed.
"Perhaps," Steelplate smiled. "Not that I would object to you enjoying any sparklings I care for, as long as the Lords do not object."
There was a muted ripple of hope in the pair's fields at the offer. "It will be nice to have a little one running around."
"That it will be," Steelplate agreed. "Have you asked to have another sparkling?"
Softlight shook his helm quickly in denial. "I can't do that again."
Steelplate nodded his understanding. "I don't know if I could do it once, even if I didn't have a choice," he admitted. "That takes a strength I don't have. Lord Prowl is kind that he doesn't demand you breed for the House."
They both shuddered at the thought, knowing how right Steelplate was, especially with how their only sparkling had turned out, growing into a well respected young warrior of the House. Even if they had been free members of the House they would have been encouraged to have more. As slaves, it was well within their master's rights to demand they do so.
The very fact that Prowl made no hint he expected another sparkling from them was one of the reasons they were so possessive of their position as the Lord Heir's personal slaves. Prowl was good to them in ways few masters would be, and they both feared what might happen if they ever lost his favor.
"Did I hear correctly, that the new spark has been confirmed?" Steelplate asked. He was sure it had been, but it was a safe and happy topic if Jazz's state was anything to go by. His former charge had been thrilled to see him, but he had also been happy in a way Steelplate was unaccustomed to even before that. Prowl seemed to not only be good to Jazz, but for him as well. Steelplate couldn't be happier for his former charge.
Both mech's moods lightened at the change in topic. "Yes. Confirmed by the House medic the orn their bonding metacycle was over and announced to the family that first decaorn. Though it would be very safe to assume that the Lord of the House knew well before then. They were on their way to the temple of Primus when you arrived."
"Then the House will be celebrating soon," Steelplate smiled warmly. "Has the nursery been set up yet?"
Softlight nodded, motioning to a door to the rear of the suite. "That is our next project, if you would like to look."
"I would," Steelplate nodded, relaxing into even smaller talk about the local weather, the city and the grounds as the pair worked.
- 9
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- 11
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The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation