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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
- 15
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- 17
The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation 16: The House of Crossbeam

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Jazz's excitement was clear as they drew near to the House of his sire. It might not have been a place that held the best of memories for him, but it was still where he had grown up, and where his own sire still resided. Being able to see Crossbeam again, to present him with two creations that were strong and sharp in frame and processor, was enough to make Jazz want to return.
Too, it was something different for his creations to see, a place very unlike the House of Shining Sun or any of its holdings.
On a much deeper and more personal level, it was closure for Jazz. Proof, to his creator's second bonded and the rest of the House, that he was not a failure. He had taken everything that she had thrown at him, risen above it, and excelled.
"Almost there." He commented softly to Prowl. "Sire said they would be expecting us."
"What does the House earn income from?" Prowl asked, quite curious and looking to distract the restless Seeker-kin sparkling inside his cab. He had known, on a level, that this was a very small holding, but it had never occurred to him that it wouldn't control land that earned obvious income from farming or a settlement.
"Mining rights that were deeded to my creator with the land grant mostly." Jazz answered. "The House actually holds the property rights to what we are traveling through now. Sire also used most of the credits that were part of his reward from the Prime to set the House up so that for now, and in fact until it grows considerably, it is mostly self sufficient for resources like power energy and energon.
"There is also an agreement with the several of the local settlements for supplies that we cannot produce ourselves. The House will provide protection and shelter in time of need, and aid in dealing with other threats."
"A good plan, then," Prowl said agreeably, though it was one he agreed with in practice. "May your brother do as well to advance it."
"Cadence has that sort of processor set, much more than I do. Sire has no worries about the future of the House when he returns to the Well one orn." Jazz had to laugh softly. "I would have made a terrible Heir."
~Why do you say that?~ Prowl switched to their bond, his concern woven into the words.
~Because I would not make a good lord.~ Jazz replied easily, curiosity answering Prowl's concern. ~I do not have the political mindset that it takes to be a good lord. I also lack the ambition. I never truly wanted anything more than to be a warrior in my creator's House, before.~
~There is a great deal between terrible and not good. I disagree you would not be good,~ Prowl pointed out evenly. ~You are practical, pragmatic, determined, creative and pick up skills quickly and efficiently. You may not be happy as a lord. You may not desire it. That does not change that I believe you would do what was needed to make your holdings prosper.~
His mate was actually silent for a time as he considered what Prowl had said, and had to admit to himself that most of what Prowl was saying was accurate and true. If for no other reason than the fact that Prowl did not lie. And if there was one thing that Jazz held very dear to his spark, it was the desire to for those in his care to do well.
~Thank you. Even though I am still glad that burden falls to my brother instead.~ Jazz responded sincerely, then added with a note of humor and deep affection. ~If for no other reason than the fact that I would never have been bonded to you.~
A flare of gratitude-thanks-approval burst across the bond from Prowl. ~We have come a long way from the first orn I saw your image capture.~
~And the minor explosion that occurred when I saw yours and was informed of my 'fate'.~ Jazz admitted, love and devotion sliding across the bond. ~Any reservations, besides my rank, when you saw me?~
~Reservations, no,~ Prowl told him. ~Appearance has never been that important to me compared to strength of spark, frame and processor. You were more attractive in person than your capture lead me to expect.~
~Oh?~ Jazz inquired, curious. ~Everyone else who was interested decided I was not what they expected when they actually met me.~
~Perhaps because they had a choice?~ Prowl suggested. ~I was prepared for a first bonded that only tolerated me. So long as they did what was required of them and produced a strong heir, it was all I was interested in. That I saw the potential for more in you led me to hope, and to try.~
Thanks-relief flowed back across the bond. ~And what did you see in me, besides someone who did not wish to be where he was?~
~A mech who would either be a great asset, or one of my great processor-aches,~ Prowl chuckled. ~You have far too much spirit and intelligence, and a manipulative nature. You were going to be trouble if left unhappy.~
His response had Jazz laughing. ~I know of more than one mecha who would agree with you.~
Jazz mused for a moment before posing another question. ~So my profile specs filled your ideal. How far off was the frame in the photo caption from what you desired in a mate?~
~Not too far off,~ he said even as he shared a few memory-images of mecha who had sparked instant intense desire in him. Critical though was that it was only physical desire; it was the desire to take pleasure with that frame, but nothing else. ~We are of similar size. The primary thing I miss is wings. I am Praxian, of an old House. I was raised to find the Praxian ideal the most desirable.~
~I can see that. Yours are beautiful.~ Jazz offered back his first real visual of Prowl in person, and the striking appeal the sensor wings added to the Praxian's frame.
~Thank you,~ Prowl purred, preening slightly. ~Your visor struck me the most.~
~Most consider it a turn-off.~ Jazz responded, slightly surprised.
~Why? It looks good on you. Distinctive,~ Prowl said.
~Because it hides my optics. I wasn't cooperative anyway, and that just gave them one less thing to read.~ With the answer came the positive feelings at the fact that Prowl liked his visor.
~I can understand that,~ Prowl decided after a moment. ~I simply do not agree it is detracting on you.~
Warmth flooded across the bond as the line of conversation came to an end with the appearance of the main gate to Jazz's birth House.
They passed through the outer wall unchallenged, the gate open to their arrival. While the walls lacked the impressiveness of those of the House of Shining Sun, they were sturdy and maintained in good repair, far more important traits than optic appeal for a warrior.
The second gate led into the main yard of the House proper, guards there watching them with careful optics but still clearly forewarned of the arrival of company that orn and some clue as to who.
Despite Prowl's insistence on traveling light as to not burden the much smaller House, his status and the two sparklings traveling with him meant there was no escaping a sizeable and well-armed guard for the journey, even if the guards would not stay long. In addition to himself, Jazz and their sparklings, there were their three servants; Steelplate, Softlight and Surestrike, and sixteen experienced and loyal warriors that had served as part of Prowl's personal guard during campaigns. In all, the House of Crossbeam was hosting twenty-three mecha for a couple orns and seven for much longer.
Though if the Lord of the House and his family considered it any sort of burden one would not have been able to tell from the expressions on faces and the light in optics as mecha spilled from the house to greet them, Crossbeam in the lead.
The entire procession stopped and transformed in order. First the front guard, who made no effort or even look to stop those coming, then Jazz and Prowl, who had to let their sparklings out of their cabs before transforming, then the servants, and finally the rear guard. It was a reminder to all who saw it that these were not honor guards and this wasn't a ceremony; this was a warrior unit and the two lords they were protecting were part of the unit, not above it.
"Carrier's Sire!" Bladesinger cheered and darted forward to jump into his welcoming hug.
Thunderstorm hung back by Prowl, looking far more dignified and a bit more uncertain.
Crossbeam laughed as he caught her light frame easily, dignity thrown aside in the presence of family. "Bladesinger. Look at how you've grown!"
He shifted her to the side, carrying her even though she was getting far too large to be toted around like a newspark, and approached Prowl and Jazz, deep blue visor dancing in delight and amusement as Jazz was assaulted by several House sparklings old enough to remember him in turn. "Lord Prowl, Jazz. Welcome. I trust your journey was uneventful?"
"It was calm and pleasant, Lord Crossbeam," Prowl smiled slightly and nudged his younger creation forward a bit. The Seeker-kin sparkling was dominated by medium blue seemed to gather himself and stood straight, his wing struts flaring in a flier greeting that said he was one of rank. "This is Thunderstorm."
Crossbeam settled Bladesinger back on her feet, focusing on the serious little flier before him and greeting him formally. "Hello Thunderstorm. I am pleased to me meet my creation's second creation."
"I am pleased to meet you as well. Carrier has told many stories of your deeds," Thunderstorm said seriously.
"He's not much on smiling," Bladesinger added with a grumpy look at her brother. "All serious and whatnot."
"Some are like that, little one." Crossbeam informed her, tweaking her metallic red chevron gently before looking at Thunderstorm again, this time with a warm smile. "I can imagine he has. Welcome to my House."
Crossbeam glanced over to where Jazz was just starting to get himself untangled, optics taking in the servants and the guards, before circling back around to Prowl. "Pleasant trip or not, it is still a long one. Your mecha will be taken care of, if you would like to see your rooms."
"That would be most welcome," Prowl said politely, formally, though there was a touch of warmth there as well for the sire of the mech he loved.
"Come along, then." He waved them in the direction of the house's main entrance, the other mecha parting before them easily. Servants circled around to take charge of the guard from the House of Shining Sun.
No one bothered to approach Steelplate, the mech catching Softlight and Surestrikes' attention and nodded for them to follow in the wake of Prowl and his creations.
"Jazz will catch up as soon as he can escape, but I am sure that you would like to remove the evidence of your travels before the evening meal." Crossbeam commented as he let them personally through his house. It lacked the feel of power and age that permeated the House of Shining Sun. Many of the walls and ways were bare, without the accumulation of millennia of history to fill them.
That would come with age, the stories of the building of the House. And if it was young now the construction was strong, the house well appointed, and clearly constructed with the intention that it would stand to protect generations to come.
Prowl hummed his approval of Crossbeam's priorities, taking in everything as they walked. Jazz had warned him that there were only a few guest rooms, but as long as he and Jazz didn't have to share with anyone else, he was quite content with it. His guard all knew to expect barracks bunks and the sparklings knew they'd be sharing a room, something both, quite separately, seemed agreeable enough to. They were not yet to the stage where privacy became important to them. Steelplate would have his old quarters back, while Softlight and Surestrike had the servant's room attached to Prowl and Jazz's suite.
Crossbeam keyed open the door, entering first as show of good will and stepping aside to allow them to investigate where they would be spending the next few decaorns.
The central room was large and tastefully furnished, and Crossbeam caught Prowl's optics and pointed to the door on the left. "That is the master suite. I think Bladesinger and Thunderstorm will find the second room to their liking." He indicated another one.
"I am sure," Prowl nodded politely, silently encouraging the sparklings to investigate. "They have been very eager to visit and see all that their carrier has spoken of for themselves."
With the tiny permission from their sire, both sparklings darted to the room that would be their sanctuary. A moment after Bladesinger got inside they heard her squeal in delight.
Crossbeam tilted his head, a small pleased smile on his face as he looked at Prowl. "Jazz suggested a minor...renovation...to the guest room that he suspected would please your creations. It sounds as though he was correct."
"Netting," Prowl smiled, his field warm with approval and pleasure at it as he walked to the door to check out the room that had his sparklings so pleased. "Thank you. I was wondering why Jazz insisted we did not need to bring them," he teased his mate with a wash of warmth as Jazz entered the room.
"I do have some planning skills, and occasionally I do think ahead." Jazz teased back, finally having lost the pack of younglings that had ambushed him upon arrival, warmth answering Prowl's over the bond. ~It pleased Sire to be able to do something just for them.~ He added privately to Prowl as both noted the delighted gleam in Crossbeam's visor. ~If he has any regrets, I think it is the fact that he cannot give them the same attention he gives the rest of his grand creations.~
~The disadvantage of living so far away. I know my sire has many of the same regrets because of his health,~ Prowl smiled with an unabashed fondness at watching his creations explore the climbing rig spread across their room. "Thunderstorm will recharge much better so close to the ceiling," he added for Crossbeam's benefit, shifting a wing so the older mech could watch the reason for their visit.
Crossbeam watched for a moment longer, pleasure in his field at the sight of his grand-creations enjoying something so simple. Finally he straightened. "I am glad to hear it. And I will leave you now so that you can rest."
He turned, looking at his own creation. "I trust you haven't forgotten the way to the dining hall?" He asked, voice full of gentle affection.
"Never." Jazz answered, field brushing against his creator's in response. "Or what time dinner is served. We will be there."
Crossbeam nodded again, this time to Prowl, and let himself out of the room.
Prowl turned and drew Jazz against him so they could both watch their creations a bit longer. ~As much as I enjoy watching them, we do need to clean up.~ He paused to nuzzled Jazz's cheek. ~Do you want to clean them up, or have a little more time and let Softlight and Surestrike take care of them?~
Affectionate optics took in the state of their creations as Jazz leaned against his bonded, field blending easily with Prowl's. ~We'll have plenty of chances to look after them while we are here, I think. Surestrike and Softlight can see to them this time.~
Prowl nodded and tipped Jazz's helm to kiss him before addressing the pair. "Surestrike and Softlight will be by to help you clean up for dinner. Be good for them."
"Yes, creator," Thunderstorm agreed immediately, always the more compliant of the pair.
Bladesinger looked to be on the verge of protesting from where she was perched high above the floor, but after she considered for a moment she agreed as well, eager to see her grandcreator again. "All right."
~Need help with your wings?~ Jazz asked, somehow keeping the question at least sounding innocent.
~Of course,~ Prowl chuckled as he drew back and turned to walk to their master berthroom with its attached washrack. His wings gave a playful flick, asking to be touched, stroked, lavished with attention.
The berthroom matched the rest of the house, the decor classic and of good quality that would hold up over use and time, and still nice enough to impress company that would use it. The washrack was the same, as functional and appealing as the rest, and it was here that Jazz finally caught up with his mate and gave in to temptation.
~You know I can't resist your wings.~ He growled, mock irritation mixing with equal playfulness in his field.
~I know,~ Prowl purred in reply, his wings flicking and fluttering temptingly as he reached in to turn on the solvent. While the washrack was far smaller and less lavish than his own, it was also far nicer than what he had on campaign and very respectable for the importance of the House he was in. He knew that only the Prime and a handful of Royals, Senators and High Priests had a washrack comparable to his. It was his great indulgence and had seen many decades worth of his personal funds and more than a few gifts to build. He had yet to regret the investment.
His wings were quickly captured as the solvent sprayed over them both, strong hands catching the sensor panels before they began to play along the familiar lengths, Jazz stepping closer to press against his bonded's back. At this range they both felt the pleasure of each touch though meshed fields and Prowl's moans.
The Praxian trembled in desire, his entire being reminded that he hadn't had more than a glancing touch from his lover since they had risen very early that orn for the journey here. It was a mixture of being close and yet separate that neither were accustomed to.
~Love you.~ Jazz whispered, hands never ceasing as he pressed close to Prowl, making up for being so close but so far for so long.
~Love you,~ Prowl responded, his frame beginning to tremble under Jazz's knowing touch and his own desires.
The feel of a warm, loving field wove through Prowl's, caressing and testing, before Jazz smiled and nuzzled gently at the back of his mate's neck. "Open for me, love." He requested quietly, his intent perfectly clear as he rubbed his already pressurized spike against Prowl's aft.
A tremble ran all the way down Prowl's frame as he moaned, a rush of appreciation for his mate's attunement to his mood licked at Jazz as Prowl slid his valve cover open and shifted his hips to offer it fully to the lover behind him.
Jazz never faltered in his attention to the sensor wings under his hands or the soft kiss and nips to the back his mate's neck and shoulders as his spike slowly into the slick, familiar valve. It rippled and squeezed around him, welcoming and urging him deeper.
~Oh love,~ Prowl moaned across the bond, not knowing what else to say about being indulged in such a way because his mate loved him, not out of a sense of duty or fear, or even in hope to gain favor.
Jazz purred softly, pleased by his mate's reaction and loving every second of Prowl's pleasure, though he was not above admitting that he got off in a way by being able to please Prowl like this.
What Jazz once would have considered a foreign feeling was as natural to him as his own sparkpulse, caring for Prowl and craving the love and approval of the spark that meant the most to him. When his spike was fully seated he paused for a moment to simply enjoy the ripple and feel of Prowl's valve before moving into a slow rhythm, the slide of his spike in his mate's valve almost a secondary pleasure at the moment to the care he chose to lavish on the captivating sensor wings spread before him.
It was hard to believe that only thirty vorns ago he hadn't even known Prowl existed, much less how completely the Praxian would complete him. If he'd had any idea being bonded could be this he wouldn't have fought it so hard.
Prowl moaned and shivered, bracing himself against the shower's wall as he surrendered completely to his mate's ministrations.
~Love you, so very much.~ Jazz whispered across the bond, sinking into the pleasure shared between them and the peace in his spark when they were like this.
His hands slid along the sensor wings, smooth pressure over the flat, sensitive panels and fingers slipping into the narrow seams to find the cables and deeper receivers all the time maintaining the steady rhythm of spike and valve.
Prowl was past true language already, only a sense of pleasure-contentment-joy responded as his wings quivered under Jazz's hands. Sensations that were received and returned, Jazz's visor dimming as he allowed himself to feel, working from memory of what pleased his mate, and picking up on every little spike in Prowl's field and across the bond that something felt extra good this time.
Finally he shifted his attention, kissing along a wing until he reached the place where they joined his bonded's frame. Glossa and fingers converged there, gently stimulating every sensor that he knew of in turn and pushing the charge he could feel building in his love closer to release.
A low, pleasure-filled moan rose to a keen as Prowl's frame trembled, the close attention pushing him to a gentle overload in his mate's arms.
Jazz held him through it, purring at the pleasure washing back over the bond, spike continuing to thrust into the tight valve until prolonged stimulation overcame his control. His frame stiffened against Prowl's back, transfluid surging from his spike to fill his lover's valve.
Slowly, sweetly, they relaxed, allowing the post-overload bliss to drift to a natural end and left them feeling content and warm in each other's presence.
It was Jazz who finally moved first, slowly with drawing his spike as he nuzzled affectionately at his mate. Even then he didn't go far, the cleanser and soft scrub easily within reach.
Those in hand he started to clean Prowl's wings, gentle but firm strokes over the Praxian's plating lifting the dirt and grime of a long orn of travel to be washed away by the warm solvent still pouring over them.
SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS
Just as he had assured his sire, Jazz had forgotten neither the way to the large dining room that served to seat the House when they gathered, or the time that the evening meal was served each orn.
The room he led them into was a reflection of the rest of the house that Prowl and their creations had seen. Simple clean lines that spoke of strength and determination while at the same time maintaining a level of classical elegance that kept them from being overpowering.
~Carrier had a very strong influence on the design of the house.~ Jazz explained as they entered the room. ~Without her I am not sure that Sire wouldn't have built the entire structure out of bare blastcrete and tinted plexisteel plates.~
Prowl kept his chuckle to himself, the amusement laced with the sensation of understanding.
They paused just inside the doorway, gaze scanning the layout of the room quickly. ~They have us all sitting together, there in the middle of the table across from Sire and Quicksilver. After tonight seating will be much more fluid, but I think he wishes to welcome you properly.~
~Polite of him,~ Prowl smiled faintly and allowed Jazz to lead them in and get their sparklings settled while Prowl sat on the far side of the youngsters. It was an arrangement they had whenever they were in public, a subtle show of protection for their creations, but also a subtle show of Prowl's regard for his mate's ability to protect them.
It was an order that was understood by those old enough seated around the table, warriors themselves or the creations of warriors, and it garnered mixed expressions of approval and curiosity, mostly directed at Jazz.
Crossbeam offered them all a small smile of welcome as they were seated, offering the formal words of thanks to Primus once Jazz was settled. He then served his mate and himself before offering one of the platters to Jazz, who promptly placed some on Bladesong's plate and passed it along. ~If you can find something that Thunderstorm will like and get something on your own plate than everyone else can start too. Things will relax pretty soon.~ He said, nudging Prowl gently over the bond.
It wasn't exactly how it worked in his own House, but as a ranking political creation and Heir, Prowl had seen a hundred variants of this and smoothly adapted. A couple of the sweeter confections and a jelly were placed before a quiet, polite Thunderstorm, then Prowl selected some for himself and passed the tray on to the mech next to him.
Despite the way both of their sparklings were quiet and still, everyone who had been around a young sparkling could tell they were all but vibrating with eagerness to eat.
~You would think we starved them.~ Jazz teased over the bond as he added a few more things to Bladesinger's plate as platters began to move around the table smoothly and quickly.
"You can start any time, brightspark." Jazz informed her gently. "Just let me know if anything else looks good and I will get it for you, all right?"
She nodded quickly as she worked to finish a bite of confection that was almost too large to have been considered good manners. "Yes, carrier."
Thunderstorm took the hint and picked up one of his confections for an almost dainty bite, completely at odds with his older sibling.
Prowl hummed approval for the Seeker-kin he'd carried before picking up his glass of energon and sipping it. He was hungry, but he'd been far lower many times in his existence. His reserve tank hadn't been touched yet.
Jazz just shook his helm a little as he added things to his own plate, managing to limit himself to just two of his favorite confections that he had not enjoyed since leaving his sire's House. The difference in personalities between their two creations was something that he doubted would ever cease to amaze him.
~If you can get the recipe, you can have those whenever you want,~ Prowl told him gently.
True to Jazz's prediction, once everyone had been served things did relax a great deal, the atmosphere settling in such a way as to hint that this was the more the normal way of the evening meal and not anything special that was being put on for company.
"How do two grounders have Aerial creations?" Sailsong, the sparkling that had tried to attach herself to Jazz's leg on his bonding orn piped up, speaking more to the two sparklings to her right than to the adults than could answer her.
"Because both I an their sire have strong sky-kin influence in our backgrounds." Jazz replied, keeping the answer simple enough for her. "Your grand creator was an Ariel, and there are many Aerials, Seekers, and Seeker-kin in the Prowl's House."
"The House of the Shining Sun traces its lineage to the Royal House of Vos through a sire," Prowl added with obvious pride. "Praxus was built by Seeker-kin."
That earned a hum of approval once more from those who where of an age to understand and care about such things, and multiple sets of curious optics studied Thunderstorm with renewed interest and a better understanding.
"Is it treaty then, or merely tradition, that the lord of the House of Shining Sun have at least one Seeker as a bondmate?" Shimmer asked with distinct curiosity. Unlike many of her siblings and their creations, she had the political and social bent of her carrier.
"Both," Prowl said easily. "While it is often an alliance bond, it is also a strong tradition. The true treaty is between the Royal House of Praxus and the Royal House of Vos. The First Bonded of the Royal House of Praxus is always a ranking royal Seeker of Vos; a sibling to the Winglord."
~Glad we had a little more leeway than that love.~ Jazz commented absently over the bond as he added several more mineral constructs to Bladesinger's plate. While she enjoyed her sweets, the growing Aerial was easy to keep fueled, often just as happy to consume things that were good for her as she was treats.
~Agreed, though if my First Bonded was such a case we would have been raised together, knowing from our sparking who we were destined to bond with,~ Prowl said. As much as he loved Jazz and was delighted with how his bonding had turned out, the comfort of knowing that he would never be required to look would have been welcome as well.
"The added bond between the two cities can't hurt though." Cadence mused, reflecting on the various strengths of those ties and the potential political ripples.
"It rarely does," Prowl agreed smoothly. "Those ties among all the royal Houses are a key reason that wars rarely involve the cities themselves. It has been a long time since a royal House rebelled against another."
"A fact for which we can all be thankful for." Someone commented, earning sounds of agreement from those gathered.
"It also makes your choice of first bonded interesting, Lord Heir. Were there no Seekers that appealed when you were looking?" Quicksilver asked, her tone meant to come across as innocent curiosity.
Jazz knew better. It was a barb at him and an attempt to put a wedge between him and Prowl. He could feel across the bond that Prowl wasn't fooled either.
"My search was rushed," Prowl answered smoothly, giving every impression that all of this was common knowledge and nothing he found shameful or even that odd. "Jazz was the best choice of those available in the timeframe required. The Seeker that was available outranked myself, and thus would have required significant negotiations to join the House of the Shining Sun."
Outwardly Jazz didn't even so much as twitch at Quicklsilver's testing barbs, but across the bond there was a wave of grateful appreciation and a quiet comment. ~And still the best choice now, I hope.~
~Yes,~ Prowl purred across their bond. ~You have spoiled me for the political bondmates to come.~
"What Seeker outranked you?" Shimmer asked, her curiosity honest, though it could have been offensive if Prowl had chosen to be testy.
"The Lord Heir to the Winglord of Vos' heir apparent, Lord Starscream," Prowl said easily. What didn't come across to anyone but Jazz was that the excuse of the rank difference, while accurate, wasn't even close to the real reason the powerful Seeker was rejected.
A warm wave of love and pride washed over Prowl as the conversation continued around them, several members of Jazz's family clearly surprised at who else had been offered as a potential to Prowl.
"That would have been some complicated negotiating, even if he is still only the Heir Potential." Cadence agreed.
"Yes, it would have been," Prowl agreed, calm and even. "I suspect the only reason it was even suggested was because we know each other well. It would have made the negotiations easier. It was still too complicated for the timeframe."
"How long are you staying?" asked Skysweep, Cadence's Aerial mate speaking for the first time.
"Three decaorn," Prowl inclined his helm and wings in respect to the Lord of the House for indulging them for so long. "Though our guard will return to Praxus after an orns' rest."
Crossbeam smiled an inclined his helm in return. He tried not to beam at the complement to his reputation and that of his House that such a powerful visitor did not feel the need to keep their guards while in such a small House so far from home.
"Then my brother will have plenty of time to drag you around the surrounding countryside, if you are agreeable to that sort of thing." Cadence said with a wink in Jazz's direction.
Soft snickers of amusement, just muffled, sounded around the table as Jazz mock glared in return, though anyone who knew the pair or could feel Jazz's field knew the young mech had nothing but love for his oldest brother.
"It is something I am looking forward to," Prowl replied with a chuckle of his own. "My vorns in the field have done little to dim my appreciation of more civilized ventures in the wildlands."
"Civilized? Jazz? Then you have made progress." Cadence commented amidst chuckles, continuing to tease his little brother a bit.
"Hunting has always been considered civilized for nobility," Prowl responded with a teasing flick of his wings. "Jazz is very good at it."
"He is." Crossbeam agreed, optics settling on his youngest creation in pride. "Your help has been missed on the razor boar hunts."
Jazz nodded, slightly embarrassed at the praise but clearly pleased by it all the same.
"Some of our most spectacular retreats together have been after razor boar," Prowl agreed with a flash of arousal across the bond. "Hunting with stasis darts is significantly more difficult. The Praxus Mechanimal Conservatory has been thrilled with the additions to the collection that Jazz has provided."
"We've provided." Jazz countered, clamping down on the shiver that threatened to run through his frame and channeling it back to Prowl instead. "Have they been that bad?"
"Not any worse than usual. The sows go hunting for easier sources of energon when they have a brood, and thankfully there hasn't been a rogue boar since that one you helped take down just before you left to bond." Crossbeam answered easily, selecting a plate and passing it to Jazz with a glance at Bladesinger and Thunderstorm.
Jazz just smiled as he realized what the tray contained, and he quickly placed a glowing energon goodie on each sparklings plate. Bladesinger squealed in delight before putting the entire goodie in her mouth while Thunderstorm rumbled a trill of thanks and anticipation before nibbling on his to savor it.
"Is it sow season?" Prowl perked up with definite interest even as he cast an indulgent look at his very different creations.
"The lull in the middle of it, in fact. I'm sure you would be welcomed among the hunters, if another one starts causing trouble." Crossbeam answered. "So far we've only had to actually take down two this season. The others have been very young ones that we've released out past the monastery."
"Any returns? I know that was being discussed just before I left." Jazz inquired, plainly curious.
"Not so far, and we are hoping it stays that way." Cadence answered.
"Is there any other good hunting in the area?" Prowl asked, curious just for being curious as much as he was interested in a hunt.
"Thunderhorn, if you are into a challenge." One of Jazz's half brothers offered, naming a mechanimal that was not so much dangerous as elusive, both by nature and the fact that it tended to inhabit high mountain terrain.
"I've never hunted those," Prowl admitted with real interest. "Praxus doesn't have the mountains to support them. They are common enough to support a hunt before I leave?" he directed at Crossbeam.
::He does mean it Sire,:: Jazz gave him a quick comm. ::He won't mind if they're having a bad century.::
"They seem to be more scarce then usual lately, but there is no reason it can't be arranged. Perhaps if you two find several that are young and healthy we can arrange to have them sent back to Praxus." Crossbeam mused, considering his youngest creation and his creation's bondmate.
"So long as it does not damage your local ecology, I would enjoy the hunt and the Conservatory would favor you for the gift," Prowl said, trying to keep his excitement at a new challenge well in check.
"How can hunting do damage?" Cascade, a mid stage youngling with the signs of being a Host like his carrier, spoke up with a curious tilt of his elegantly horned and visored helm.
"Take too many from the wild population and you risk them dying out all together." Jazz explained. "And when one ecological factor disappears it harms all the other parts well."
The youth hummed a complex harmonic as he thought about that. "How do you know how many need to be left?"
"You don't always. It's a guessing game, built on numbers and facts. And when you start trying to guess with mechanimals like Thunderhorn it is even harder because of how difficult it is to get an accurate count of the current number. Left alone, they tend to balance themselves."
"Shouldn't you avoid hunting them, then?" the youngling pursued the line of questioning.
"If we were hunting to deactivate, like we do with troublesome razor boar or rogue greater crystal cats, we could cause a problem. Prowl and I are hunting for sport, with darts, and we'll only remove some if it looks like there are some to spare." Jazz told him.
"If it seems the population can't support the loss, we will keep an optic on it to make sure it is safe until the dart wears off," Prowl added. "All the excitement and challenge for us, but no harm to the population."
~Half an optic.~ Jazz teased his mate over their bond, along with reminders of things they had done while waiting for their catch to regain consciousness in the past. A soft rev escaped Prowl's engine and he gave his mate an unabashed look that promised Jazz would be pinned against the wall at the first opportunity.
"I think they may have another sparkling soon," Skysweep snickered with a distinct sense of approval.
"I wouldn't object," Prowl's rumble deepened.
"At least Steelplate's here," Bladesinger sighed dramatically at her brother, who snickered.
"Not planning to have another until these two are older." Jazz said, amused as he reached out to tweak Bladesinger's small crest gently, though the look he gave Prowl in return invited all the attention his mate wished to give.
"They both seem healthy and strong, for being so close together." Skysweep offered with a smile, clear praise and hint of question in the comment.
"Thunderstorm's viability and Jazz's health were the top priority," Prowl said with an affectionate touch to both his creations. "Five vorns is very close together," he agreed. "It is why we decided to spend much of the time in a monastery. Jazz finds it much more restful, thus reducing the risks significantly."
No one in Jazz's family seemed surprised by that fact, though Cadence did frown slightly as he studied his brother again, careful optics judging Jazz's health for himself as he asked. "A wise idea, but why push so hard for a second so soon?"
"It wasn't planned," Prowl said simply. "Primus gifted us with a second new spark, healthy and strong. As long as it did not risk Jazz's future to do so, I will never reject a healthy creation."
Cadence settled back, satisfied with what he saw and with Prowl's admission that the health and welfare of his mate were important to him.
"The Lord of the House of Shining Sun must be pleased too." Quicksilver observed.
"Quite pleased," Prowl agreed. "He did not expect to meet my second creation. That both are projected to be very strong fliers has thrilled much of the House. It has been many generations since a flier has been our House Lord."
"So what do you think of our home so far, Lord Prowl?" Shimmer asked as the meal drew to a close.
"It is an excellent foundation for the generations to come and quite comfortable for this one," Prowl offered honest praise. "Captain Silver Crest was also very impressed by the barracks. Well constructed, efficient and comfortable without being excessive to a unit's needs," he passed on the comments of his chief guard. "It is much as Jazz led me to believe in his stories of growing up."
"Thank you." Crossbeam said, sincerely thanking Prowl for every beaming member of the House as he stood and offered a hand to Quicksilver, signaling the end of the meal.
She took it, allowing him to help her up, before nodding stiffly to Jazz and Prowl and taking her leave silently.
Crossbeam watched her, venting softly as he turned back to face his guests. "And your accommodations? Are they to your liking?"
"Yes," Prowl said easily. "The berth is soft enough for my wings, the washrack nice and our sparklings like their room. I anticipate it will be a pleasant place to stay."
"Good. Let me know if there is anything else you need, and the hunt you requested will be looked into within the next orn." Crossbeam said, finding a smile for Jazz and his grand-creations as they joined Prowl.
"I will, and thank you," Prowl inclined his helm politely, every inch the guest.
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With the sparklings turned over to the care of Softlight and Surestrike, Prowl pulled his mate into their berthroom and pinned him against the wall the moment the door closed. A fierce kiss and pulsing field spoke well of the Praxian's desires as his hands roamed familiar plating. The kiss was returned with equal passion, field tangling with Prowl's as Jazz pulled the Praxian close. Desire triggered desire, each touch enflaming passion that the mates were never resistant to.
Almost reluctantly Prowl broke the kiss and nibbled his way along Jazz's jaw, down his throat and to his chest armor. Shudders ran through his mate's frame with every knowing touch and scorching kiss, sensations heightened by the shared passion between them. Jazz quivered, then reached out to stroke the sensor wings that were within easy reach, vorns of accumulated experience guiding his hands on just where and how to touch to reciprocate the attention being lavished on him.
They were both trembling in restrained desire by the time Prowl had knelt fully and planted a kiss of request on his mate's spike cover.
Surprise flickered in Jazz's field, but the next moment the cover slid aside, freeing his spike to his mate's attention. Driven by the passion and desire already burning in his circuits it pressurized quickly at Prowl's licking kisses.
"Never forget how much I love your spike," Prowl rumbled before taking it all the way down his intake until his nasal ridge was pressed against Jazz's spike housing.
His mate keened softly, systems working hard to dispel the heat building in his systems pushing heated air from his vents and across Prowl as Jazz willingly gave himself over the attention and affections of his mate. Attention and affection that were granted to him from Prowl's love, and nothing demanded of the Praxian by anything save his own spark, made it all the sweeter and more precious to Jazz.
~Love you, love every pleasure we share, every desire you have let me know of,~ Prowl moaned across their bond, his intake, glossa and lip plates all closing around and stroking the spike that had never been touched by another. ~You are so lovely in your pleasure.~
Jazz whimpered softly, adoring gaze focused on his mate and full of all the devotion and care for Prowl that radiated from his very spark across their meshed fields and their bond. "Love you." he managed as his hands worked the glorious wings in his grasp and his hips shifted in Prowl's hold, seeking the pleasure that Prowl was offering, indulging him with.
So wrapped up in the glory that was Prowl and their love it only took Jazz a few more moments of feeling and watching Prowl move up and down his spike before he lost it. With a cry that was more accompaniment than warning Jazz's hips jerked, every sensor in his spike seeming to fire at once as transfluid surged from it and passion driven overload surged through Jazz. He surrendered to it completely, trusting and feeling the pleasure his mate took in driving him to this overload.
Prowl hummed happily and continued to gently work his mate's spike as Jazz came down from the overload.
For a few kliks Jazz simply savored the warm haze of post overload, supported by his mate's strong hold and loving field. His visor flickered as he came back to awareness, and a small smile spread across his lips as one hand stroked Prowl's hand and another ran gently along the length of a wing. ~You are amazing, my love.~
~Thank you,~ Prowl purred and he finally drew fully off Jazz's spike and stood to kiss him softly. "Your valve ready to be taken from behind?" He asked with a nuzzle.
"By you?" Jazz leaned into the contact. "Always and only."
Another kiss and Prowl drew his mate to the berth and settled him on his front with his aft in the air and helm resting on his arms. Strong, sure white fingers ghosted over Jazz's valve cover, asking permission as always. Even if by all rights it was his to take as he pleased.
A soft sigh escaped Jazz as his frame relaxed and he bared his valve to his lover, offering all once again to the mech he loved. Sure, knowing fingers teased the slick, sensitive platelets to spread the lubricant around and simply enjoy the reactions Jazz gave.
Soft moans answered each touch, Jazz's back arching pleasure, showing off his frame to the only mech who had ever seen him like this and the only one Jazz wanted to submit to.
"So lovely," Prowl purred as he leaned forward, shifting the angle of his fingers as he lined their frames up and sank into his mate with a welcoming moan as he gradually covered Jazz with his own frame and held there for a moment, relishing the sensation along his entire frame.
Jazz shivered, valve rippling in pleasure and pleasure rippling through his field to his mate as he was stretched and filled. He shifted his knees, spreading farther and shifting his weight to accommodate Prowl's where they touched, welcoming and willing.
"And only for you." He whispered, tilting his helm for a glimpse of his bonded. Prowl's face was near his, optics dim with pleasure as he began to thrust his hips against Jazz's.
Prowl's moaning was as much from Jazz's reactions as his own pleasure. With their bond wide open and fields fully meshed they'd barely touched before the sensations of one were flooding the other.
Willing, trusting, and completely open, soft sounds being pushed from Jazz with each thrust and each surge of sensations across the bond, shared to the point that neither cared who it came from as both felt it. Smiling, Jazz deliberately tightened around his lover's spike. Prowl's moaning shudder was even more of a reward than the rush of pleasure through his own frame as sensor nodes were rubbed.
"Yes," Prowl shuddered again as he shifted his weight to capture Jazz's hands and entwine their fingers. It felt so good. He didn't care if it was a bit awkward or that he couldn't sink as deeply as possible in other positions. It triggered desires deep inside him that compensated and then some.
That fact that the mech was eager and willing, the desire washing over Prowl from his mate unique in that it was only ever for him, made the encounter all the more intense.
Jazz cry of pleasure as the change in angle struck a different set of sensors in his valve, or the way he shifted his to increase the contact and the friction between them, only encouraged and asked for more.
"Prowl..." Jazz moaned his mate's designation, intensely aware of every point of contact between them and the fire building in him. "Love you."
"My mate," Prowl growled in reply, so much more than the base meaning of the term in his resonant rendering. "My Chosen," he shuddered at the intensity of the offer, the claim, especially for a mech he hadn't known a century. "My Chosen," he said again, a whisper of the word as the building pleasure began to steal his voice.
It was Jazz who lost control first, crying out until his vocalizer gave out to static, frame arching against his mate as the charge that been building internally washed over him, crackling across his plating as his valve clenched around the thick spike.
Above him Prowl roared as his entire frame responded to the bliss by crashing into its own overload, filling Jazz's valve with heavily charged transfluid until it spilled out to run down their legs with each powerful thrust until Prowl locked up fully at the pinnacle of his pleasure.
Sated contentment drifted across the bond as they both came down from the high, Jazz's helm falling forward to rest on the berth as his joints locked at with the continued effort to support them both.
~Love you.~ He mumbled across the bond, not entirely coherent but meaning it completely.
~Love you,~ Prowl replied, only fractionally more coherent than his mate. Despite the reluctance to end the pleasure, he drew back and dropped to his side, his lower wing outstretched to brace him slightly while the upper one draped across Jazz's back.
With the weight lifted Jazz allowed his joints to unlock and promptly collapsed on the berth, shifting enough so that his entire frame was once again pressed against his mate's. Strong arms wrapped around him as Prowl's wing draped over him as they settled together once more, content not to move for a while.
Jazz lay there, basking in the warmth of his mate all around him as their systems settled back into resting pace. Finally coherent, he turned his helm to nuzzle at Prowl gently, somehow tucking himself tighter against the other mech. Curiosity rose as his processor began to fully function again and memories from dinner and some of the exchange that had led to that very delightful round of interfacing came with it.
~It wasn't just the political red tape that kept you from choosing the Seeker, was it?~ He asked, the weight of the emotions that had come from Prowl over the bond when the Seeker was being discussed fresh in Jazz's processor. ~Surely a prince would have been worth the extra negotiating?~
~What I said was true. Lord Starscream and I know each other well. We were lovers for a time, with real hopes that it would turn into more,~ Prowl sighed deeply. ~He has good qualities. He is also self-centered, egotistical and erratic even for a royal Seeker. My logic center can't take it. It was just too much after a century. It didn't end well, though I have doubts that he's told anyone, and I do not express how poorly we get along now.~
For a while Jazz lay there, contemplating that and trying wrap his processor around the idea. It must have ended very badly, for Prowl to have decided that the Seeker's shortcomings were greater than the gain to the House of such a powerful alliance.
~It was a matter of life or death for me,~ Prowl said softly. ~Every time he crashed my logic center it did damage that can not be repaired. As far as it went, I have taken more permanent damage in battle. That would not have remained true if we bonded.~
With a shudder at the implications he kissed Prowl gently, selfish gladness swelling across the bond. ~Sorry for you,~ he said, referring to the fact that it had been unpleasant for Prowl, ~but not for the fact that is means you chose me over him.~
~As am I, that I did,~ Prowl murmured, hugging him close.
Jazz settled into the embrace, warmth and protection that ran both ways soothing across the bond.
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Crossbeam surveyed the area marked out in the house's central courtyard, critical gaze checking the smoothed out surface once more for anything that might cause a problem in the upcoming fight as various members of the House and those visiting started to gather. It was only an exhibition, a test of skill between warriors for the purpose of training, learning, and in this case, display. The Praxian was a well-respected leader with many victories to his designation and his praises were openly sung by those who had served with him and under him as a brilliant tactician and skilled warrior who led from the front lines by preference.
But Crossbeam had never seen the young Lord Heir in action with his own optics, much less crossed blades with him. And even if there was no way to undo the bonding now, especially now that he was rather sure that his youngest creation was happy, Crossbeam's warrior spark demanded that he make sure this mecha was worthy of one of his creations.
Thus he had been privately thrilled when the Praxian had politely requested to spar in full armor and with real weapons as suiting experienced warriors, and to do so before his guard had left so they could watch. It may have been an act of hubris, except that Prowl asked with every respect and deference due a renowned warrior many times his senior. It spoke clearly that while the Praxian thought he could win, he wasn't certain of it.
If the younger mech had any ulterior motives to his request Crossbeam had yet to discover those as well, and actually found that he was looking forward to this. It eased his spark too that Jazz did not seem at all concerned by the fact that his creator was facing off against his bonded mate
The young mech left his creations in Steelplate's watchful care for a klik as Prowl appeared with the Captain of his guard. A nanoklik later Jazz froze in surprise as he took in Prowl's appearance.
~I did say full armor,~ Prowl purred at him, flaring his long sensor wings slightly to display the hardened line of spiked and sharpened armor protecting the vulnerable outer edge.
Slowly Jazz stepped closer, critical gaze taking in the mech standing before him from helm to pede as the Praxian displayed for him. Finally he looked back into Prowl's golden optics. ~And who is this handsome mech standing where my mate is supposed to be?~
~Your mate, ready to fight,~ Prowl rumbled as he tipped Jazz's chin up for a kiss that promised a worthy show.
~Then I look forward to rewarding him when the fight is over.~ Jazz purred as the kiss broke. Glancing sideways he didn't bother to hide his smile. ~I think you've managed to impress our creations as well.~
~They will both have similar armor, if they fight and choose to wear it,~ Prowl said before shifting to join Crossbeam in the sparing circle.
Jazz watched him go, then returned to where their creations waited with Steelplate, the guardian mech keeping one optic on his charges and one on the preparation for the match. Bladesinger was quivering with excitement and a small edge of concern as she looked at her carrier. "Creator and grandsire aren't going to hurt each other, right?"
"No brightspark." Jazz ran a hand lightly over her helm as he settled down to watch, one flying sparkling on each side. "This is training. For everyone to watch."
"Like what Sire goes out to watch most orns," Thunderstorm added, though he glanced at Jazz for confirmation that he understood correctly.
"Like that, yes. Though this will be somewhat different. This is the first time I've seen your sire in armor, or using real weapons in a match." Jazz agreed, gaze going back to his mate admiringly as both mecha made their way to the center.
Crossbeam stopped facing Prowl, taking in his opponent calmly. Prowl's armor was unquestionably fancier than his own, but despite its fine polish and repair, there was no doubting that this set had seen combat more than once and was often in the field. It had the look and finish of a field General's ... meant to make the wearer stand out among his troops but also meant to provide the same level of protection and maneuverability that any agility-oriented warrior needed.
The older warrior had no doubt that Prowl was very much agility oriented. Every line of his frame, armor and weapon choices spoke of a mecha who preferred to dodge than let his armor take a hit it didn't have to. What Crossbeam knew of Prowl's record spoke of the same. No fear of being injured, but also no predilection for it.
Across from him Prowl was taking Crossbeam's measure in turn. Well-fitted armor graced the much older mech's dark form, and the warrior wore it as a second skin. Taller and heavier than Jazz, with the same stubby horns and visor, there was no way to miss that Crossbeam and the armor he wore now had spent much of their existence in one battle or another, or preparing hard for it.
Prowl gave himself a 53.8% probability of winning the match as they bowed to each other and drew their weapons into a neutral stance.
"This is the first time you have gotten to see your sire fight like this, isn't it?" Steelpate rumbled softly to Jazz, taking Crossbeam's stance with the old single-bladed battle-ax and small shield.
"Yes." Jazz agreed. "His time at home was his time to rest and recover. He would spar on occasion, but nothing like this."
"Sire's going to win though," Thunderstorm said and asked all at once as the warriors circled each other.
Even in these first few moments the differences in style were as marked as the differences in their frames. Prowl's two weapons that could parry but not shield against Crossbeam's heavier weapon that couldn't parry well, but with a shield that could block. Perfected cutting damage vs. a crushing swing. Speed vs. power.
Prowl was the first to move, a lighting-fast attack towards Crossbeam's weapon arm. It was caught on Crossbeam's shield, the mech giving a step under the speed of the blow, ax coming around to strike at Prowl.
With the smoothness of intensive training both sword and wing-edge came up for the block even as Prowl twisted so his movement absorbed the bulk of the energy that manage to connect with him. In the same motion he slid his other sword down to jab at Crossbeam's side.
A calculated shove threw the strike far enough that it was little more than a glancing blow, and as they parted ways there was a new light in Crossbeam's dark blue visor, calculating and approving and much more wary.
Prowl's wings flared slightly at the complement as they circled each other, the movement glinting off hardened armor that Crossbeam realized was sharpened and spiked in every strategic location. Even without his swords, the Praxian's very armor made him a walking weapon. The first blows they'd exchanged also spoke of the upgraded strength and speed hidden in a frame few thought could even learn to fight.
Crossbeam couldn't help but wonder how many of Prowl's victories were because someone underestimated the political creation of a largely pacifist city leading an army.
With a burst of power from his legs Prowl darted forward to slash at Crossbeam's shield arm.
Crossbeam's response was to meet Prowl, accepting the blow for another chance to strike, this time much more aware of the speed and power with which the Praxian could react and prepared to react himself. He stepped into the attack and swung at Prowl, trying to reach past the wing-armor and either cut into the sensitive and lightly protected surfaces beyond, or all the way to Prowl's back.
Once again the wing edge caught the blow, this time almost squarely on the primary joint so the force ran down the strongest strut in the wing to be absorbed by Prowl's frame.
They broke again, circling for a moment as Crossbeam considered, taking the initiative to strike first this and aiming lower, ax sweeping at Prowl's knee joint with an ever wary optics still on the Praxian's blades. As his frame lowered for the strike, however, Prowl leapt up and snapped his right wing, the one that no shield guarded against, forward with a twisting of his frame to crash into the side of Crossbeam's helm with the force of a hard punch.
The large mech grunted softly, a clear sign that even as he moved with the impact and his helmet took some of the blow that he had indeed felt it. But with a singleness of purpose he did not allow it to interrupt his strike, ax still connecting with Prowl's lower leg, the blow hard enough to be audible to all watching.
From where they were watching Jazz picked up and edge of distress from Bladesinger, and shifted the aerial so that she was sitting in his lap to watch. His own field, excited and unafraid, wrapped around her soothingly as he spoke softly in her audio, starting a running commentary.
"It's all right brightspark. The worst damage they are both likely to get is stripped paint from the lectures when the medics are done with them. Medics don't like it when warriors beat themselves up, even in the name of training. See?"
She watched as her sire landed on his undamaged pede first, testing the one that had been hit before putting his fully weight on it again.
The warriors circled each other, each now with enough experience to have a solid gauge on the other. Prowl recalculated his odds of winning and promptly dismissed the result. It didn't matter what his odds were. He would not surrender until he had to.
Crossbeam's expression was neutral, but there was the same calculating air about him. He was aware of Prowl's wings now as a weapon that the warrior knew how to use, and not just a well-defended weak point that he could potentially exploit. He now knew that the sharpened armor could decapitate against an unarmored neck.
This was a different sort of challenge, battling a Praxian trained to such a high level in the art of combat and specialized in the use of their frame as a weapon. Even among warriors it was not uncommon to rely almost completely weapons. It was a challenge that made him think as he had not been required to in some time.
Another second of consideration and Crossbeam shifted his grip on his ax before striking again. He saw Prowl do something extraordinary in his opinion. Prowl's swords were sheathed, freeing his hands as he rolled into Crossbeam's strike, grabbed the larger mech's wrist and used both their momentum to throw Crossbeam to the edge of the ring.
Both blades were out and Prowl on the attack before the older mech's processors finished tracking the movement.
Centuries of experience had reflexes in motion without conscious thought, Crossbeam shifting his frame and the weapons he had maintained his hold of to catch the strike. He gave under it before putting his whole frame into retaliation, heaving Prowl off and away from him.
The momentum was continued into a familiar move back to his feet and to the ready, approval clear. He waited until he had Prowl's complete attention once more and then signaled a halt and made another motion with his shield arm. A dark armored mech stepped forward at the command.
"Rampart. Captain of the House guard." Jazz murmured for his creations' benefit, allowing them to attach a name and rank to the new mech.
"Hand to hand?" Crossbeam asked, already offering his ax to the mech at his side.
Prowl nodded and caught Silver Crest's optic after glancing at Jazz, noting how he was occupied with their sparklings. He tossed her both blades, which were caught with the ease of one used to doing so and who trusted the tosser implicitly.
With a flare of armored sensor wings that ended with the three fingers separating fully before closing once more. It was an act designed to make him look far more impressive, and it worked. Prowl settled into a light crouch, ready to defend himself.
Crossbeam nodded before gliding forward with a grace almost out of place from a mech of his size and build, scanning for an opening and on the lookout for a preemptive strike from his opponent. This too was a new challenge, since his normal tactic of using a Praxians' wings against them was severely hindered by the armor gracing Prowl's. The cutting edges on them and the maneuverability that Prowl had already displayed with them gave the Praxian an edge that Crossbeam lacked. A vulnerability had become a strength with training and armor.
All of this was considered in an instant, Crossbeam not even pausing on his approach as he closed with Prowl, intent on testing his greater mass against the Praxian's strength. Only it was an angle that Prowl had no inclination to comply with.

The faint sound of a minor transformation sequence was only barely audible over their systems as sensor wings were pulled tight against Prowl's frame and he darted forward, low and slightly wide to get behind Crossbeam, before lashing out with razor sharp claws to slice the multitude of lines that connected arm to chassis.
The larger mech wasn't quite quick enough to dodge the blow and was clearly testing the arm as he spun to face Prowl, growling very softly. His visor flashed as he reached for the Praxians' arm, catching hold and twisting his frame to throw the other mech to the ground.
Prowl relaxed and rolled with the movement, aware that he didn't have the mass or strength to effectively counter it. Instead he focused on causing damage with his greater reach. Weaponized claws cut into cabling in the lower arm while sensor wings snapped forward to close on Crossbeam's neck with their sharp, hardened armor edges from the lower sides. In a real battle, he would have put much more force behind it, intent on decapitating his opponent and willing to risk serious injury himself to do so. Here he was merely struggling for points.
Crossbeam reached up, knocking one of the wings away and accepting the slice on his arm to save his neck, angling his helm so that his helmet took the brunt of the other wing's strike.
With a grunt he freed his arm, catching Prowl's near wing, forcing both mechs down and pinning the deadly limbs with his knees. He felt the agony rip through Prowl's field as Crossbeam's mass landed on the sensitive panels, but that was the only indication the Praxian gave. He struggled to free them briefly, but gave up when it was clear that he'd tear them before he freed them.
A brief struggle for control of hands ensued, though it was more token effort on Prowl's part to force this to a full pin rather than surrendering. With another growl Crossbeam finally gained control of Prowl's wrists, accepting the additional cuts in his arms to bring the match to an end.
He felt a flash of triumph when Prowl went lax, surrendering to his pin exactly as the rules demanded and no sooner. It was also good to feel the lack of any negative reaction in the Praxian. Disappointment, but no anger or the like.
"Well won, Crossbeam," Prowl said as he was allowed to stand. Sensor wings flicked out, stretching and spreading the fingers briefly before settling.
"Well fought, Prowl." Crossbeam responded, meaning every word as he rolled a shoulder, the limb moving stiffly from the strain of pinning Prowl and the damage the Praxian had inflicted with his claws. "My creation is well protected." He added softly, facing Prowl.
A small, pleased smile crossed Prowl's features as he offered his arm in a warrior's shake between compatriots who no longer cared about rank between them. "He is a fine warrior in his own right, improving every vorn. It will not be long until he reaches his goal and will stand by my side always."
Crossbeam accepted the offered arm, grip firm and field warm. "A noble goal, and one that our enemies should fear."
Movement caught both of their attention, and Crossbeam offered a true smile at the sight of Jazz holding on to Bladesinger. "And now I think your family wishes to see you before the medics get their hands on both of us."
Prowl chuckled lightly and let go of Crossbeam's arm before turning to embrace Jazz, Bladesinger between them, while a sensor wing stretched out to draw Thunderstorm close.
~Did you enjoy watching?~ Prowl purred, more than a bit revved up from the fight as he claimed a kiss from his mate.
~Very much so.~ Jazz answered, kissing his mate in return. ~And your creations were very concerned for you.~
"I was in no danger," Prowl promised both sparklings, reaching down to draw Thunderstorm closer. "Sparring is not something to fear."
"She was scared. I knew what was going on," Thunderstorm said defiantly, though he didn't resist being held close.
"But you're hurt." Bladesinger held up a hand, a small stain of Prowl's energon on her fingers.
~They'll understand soon enough.~ Jazz smiled, stepping back to make room for Bladesinger and Thunderstorm to be near their sire. ~There was a time when I worried for my sire, once I understood that he could be hurt, and before I figured out that he was in little danger when he was training. Though even I would feel better if you let the medics see to you soon. And to sire.~
~Yes, love,~ Prowl chuckled. "It is easily repaired. You will see. We will both be without a mark by dinner," he promised before glancing around. A slender black and silver cycleformer with a reddish-purple visor was hauling the much larger Lord of the House away, railing at him every step.
"She said we can use her medbay," the field medic for Prowl's guard came up, trying not to crack up at the civilian medic's reaction.
"Good," Prowl chuckled and patted Strongarm on the shoulder before following him.
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It was still early in the orn as Jazz led his mate through the wildlands that that surrounded the House, alert to his surroundings but completely at ease in familiar landscape. Sure pedes covered uneven terrain with ease, the pace steady but not so fast that they were unable to enjoy the clear orn or that he forced his less knowledgeable companion stress.
~It there anything at the top other than the view?~ Prowl asked as he paid far more attention to where he was going, though he had enough time to enjoy what was around them.
~A nice place to rest, when you want to be where no one is going to find you.~ Jazz answered easily as the reached the first of a series of inclines. ~But the view alone is worth the effort.~
~So an excellent view and the relative privacy to short your vocalizer,~ Prowl rumbled, leaving no doubts as to how he planned to do that. ~It has been a while.~
~Going to have to work hard to top that night after you sparred with Sire.~ Jazz teased, pausing to turn and kiss his mate. ~And this time there will be no sparklings in the next room over that we have to mute our vocalizers for.~
Prowl rumbled into the kiss and reached to pull his mate close, his field alive with desire.
Jazz smiled at his mate, allowing himself to be pulled close but deliberately keeping a check on his own desire. "All yours. At the top. It'll be worth the wait." Promise rippled across the bond.
"We'll see who breaks first," Prowl grinned with a devilish promise that no matter what, it would be well worth it.
Jazz kissed him again, light and quick, before pulling away and starting up the mountain once more. The inclines quickly gave way to steep, narrow trails, where there were any trails at all. ~Don't mind free climbing, do you love?~
~Be glad Silver Crest isn't going to hear of this,~ Prowl chuckled. ~I know how to free climb.~
~I won't tell her if you won't. Steelplate used to give me pit over this.~ Jazz answered as he started up the rockface, testing each hand and foothold with care and not just the idea that it would support him, but Prowl as well if his mate chose to follow the same route. He kept sensors and an optic on Prowl as much as he could, and quickly picked up yet another use for those sensor wings he loved so much; apparently they gave Prowl a good reading on the material around him.
As Jazz pulled himself onto the next section where they could walk, he was treated to watching his mate leap onto the ledge in a smooth motion more reminiscent of watching a flier land than a grounder climb.
"Showoff." He grumbled at his mate with a smile, but the admiration and desire that flickered over the bond were enough to tell Prowl what he really thought of the display, and the mech making it.
"For what it inspires in you," Prowl let the desire he felt for Jazz's response come across clearly as he closed the small distance between them.
"A prayer of thanks to Primus for such a handsome mate?" Jazz teased, looking into the golden optics as Prowl caught him around the waist and pulled him close for a soft kiss that gradually deepened.
~Desire for that mate,~ Prowl rumbled as his hands slid down to Jazz's aft and squeezed as he pulled his mate against himself.
~Always desire you.~ Jazz responded, the bond allowing for the added layers of meaning. Desire not just for his mate's frame and the pleasure they shared, but for spark and bond and the very life they had built together.
He smiled as the kiss broke. "Higher." He reminded his mate.
"We have all orn," Prowl rumbled as he stepped forward, pressing his mate against the wall.
"Not if you make it so that I can't climb the rest of the way." Jazz pointed out, field switching to light and teasing more than a little challenge in it.
"Oh, so my lovely mate can't walk after a single overload?" Prowl teased and challenged right back as his field pushed all the way through Jazz.
"I can." Jazz purred as he softly kissed his mates face. "But can you stop with giving me just one?"
"If I want to," Prowl crooned, one finger slipping between Jazz's legs to tease his valve cover.
"Higher." Jazz urged again, promise answering the challenge as he bit back a moan from the intimate touch. "Unless you can't wait."
With a line of nipping kisses down Jazz's jaw and throat, Prowl let him go. "I can, but you won't be walking till dawn if I do."
"I fail to see where I loose then." Jazz answered as he regained control, looking over his shoulder as he started up the irregular game trail. His mate followed, a touch more carefully for his lack of familiarity with the path and to give himself plenty of opportunities to look, and occasionally touch his mate, but for now Prowl was willing to let them climb.
Jazz was not immune to the touches of his mate, or the effect he was having on Prowl. He egged it on shamelessly, teasing his mate as they climbed, challenging his mate and reminding Prowl of his promise.
Finally he stopped, turning to look at Prowl. "Trust me?"
"Yes," the simple answer spoke volumes from a warrior mech in unknown territory.
"Turn off your optics and dim your wings." Jazz instructed, reaching out to take Prowl's hands in his own. He felt Prowl's surprise, and was gratified when his mate complied without further question. He was asking a lot of the Praxian, he knew. He hoped it would be worth it for Prowl to experience the vista as Jazz first had.
Jazz led him along slowly, watching the trail carefully as he led his mate up the last steep rise and the wide ledge that it opened onto.
There he led Prowl along, positioning his mate so that when Prowl finally turned his optics back on he would be able to see everything.
Because from where they were, a very young Jazz had almost believed he could see everything there was to see.
"Ok. You can look."
Spread out before them, as far as the optic could see, was wildland, seemingly endless and full of possibility.
Jazz was suitably gratified at the gasp Prowl let out as he took in the view, then their bond widened a bit as Prowl showed him what it was like for a Praxian to go from sensor and optic blind to the full grasp of such a vista, sharing the full breath of what his sensor suite picked up beyond the norm.
A shudder ran through Jazz's frame as he came around behind Prowl, wrapping his arms around his mate. "Told you it was worth it." He whispered, still trying to process everything that Prowl was sharing with him and overjoyed that his mate seemed to appreciate this as he had.
"I never doubted that," Prowl turned his helm for a kiss which was this time willingly given; warm, welcome and offering everything that Jazz was to his mate once more. A soft moan escaped Prowl as the kiss deepened gradually, their frames heating and fields meshing together without conscious effort. Prowl's hands ran down Jazz's back, exploring long familiar plating.
~Seems like you were trying hard enough to delay seeing it.~ Jazz teased, suddenly allowing every bit of heat and desire that he had been holding back free rein to flood across the bond.
~Perhaps because you will always be a more enticing sight,~ Prowl rumbled, flickers of images of Jazz, both sleek and fighting fit and thick with sparkling crossing the bond with equal adore. ~Do you want to see all of this while I blow your processors?~
"Yes." Jazz moaned, ~Love being able to see you too, though.~
~Just look down then,~ Prowl grinned as he kissed his way across Jazz's face, dusting whisper-light kisses along the bright blue visor he loved.
His mate shivered in his arms, soaking up the attention and adding to the sensations shared across their bond. It was worth the effort of denying himself and his mate for a time for the passion and desire that resulted when they finally gave in.
He pulled Prowl close, catching his mate's lips in a kiss full of the desire for the other mech. ~Going to make good on that threat?~
~When have I ever failed to?~ Prowl grinned as he began to nip and lick his way down Jazz's jaw, then neck. ~It will be long past sunrise before you're capable of walking down again.~
~Never.~ Jazz admitted, hands beginning to wander over his mate's plating and wings as he moaned with the first touches to his chest. Promise or threat Prowl had always kept his word.
Strong fingers slipped into seams on broth frames, teasing and enticing while Prowl slowly slid to his knees as he worked his way down. Jazz's frame was trembling by the time his mate reached his hips, willing to give Prowl whatever the mech wanted so long as the flood of physical and emotional pleasure continued between them.
Slow, torturously sweet kisses and a devilish glossa crept down the edge of one leg joint, then just barely ghosted over Jazz's spike cover to tease their way up the other side before moving between them and licking downward again.
This time Prowl stopped over Jazz's spike cover and made an insistent mewling purr against the sensitive metal. There was an answering, eager purr from Jazz as the cover slid away, exposing the tip of the spike beneath it.
"Love your spike," Prowl purred before sliding his glossa around the rim of the housing, slowly working his way inward with each circle.
~Love it when you do this.~ Jazz responded, honestly loving any attention from his mate but enjoying it so much more when the pleasure was something that Prowl preferred as well.
Like this.
With their bond so open there was no way mistake how much Prowl adored lavishing attention on Jazz's spike, how much he got off on the feel of it against his lip plates, along his glossa, down his intake. It was incomprehensible to Jazz not that long ago how the one giving oral could receive so much pleasure from it. Now he understood, not just as an act of love, but as an act of pure sensuality and even control for Prowl as it was an indulgence for Jazz. The unique feel of his mate like this, and the sensor panels that Jazz found so attractive on the mecha he loved within his reach. To play with and worship and share the blissful pleasure being given.
So caught up in simply enjoying the touch and the pleasure shared, it nearly came as a surprise to Jazz when he felt the tipping point where an overload was all but inevitable.
"Love." He whined, hands stroking Prowl's wings firmly as his hips rolled into the pleasure.
~Relax, love,~ Prowl replied, adding suction and a deep hum to his efforts. ~You taste so good.~
Jazz keened softly, letting go and letting the charge simply roll through him and into his mate as he overloaded. In return he felt Prowl's pleasure, less physical but just as strong, as hot, heavily charged transfluid rushed across his glossa and down his intake, spreading the charge into Prowl's core.
Jazz's systems hummed, hot air washing over his mate as Jazz relaxed into the support that Prowl offered as the charge slowly dwindled, easing Jazz into a place of contentment. His mate echoed his gentle pleasure as Prowl cleaned Jazz's spike before leaving it to continue his journey down, between Jazz's spread legs.
A soft moan escaped Jazz at the first brush of glossa over valve cover, heat and lubricant leaking from the edges. He shifted his frame, the rock wall behind him taking more of his weight as his legs spread wider.
"Love it when you take me." He whispered, gaze dropping down to where his mate was working and valve cover sliding away. "Love it when you claim me, over and over, reminding me that I am yours."
Prowl rumbled deeply, his field flaring out to press into his mate with the arousal the words and sentiment caused in him. He hummed, channeling the vibration through his glossa as he stroked the slick, sensitive platelets around his mate's valve.
Jazz squirmed, hips pushing into the feel of the glossa, wanting more. "Love being yours." He continued, answering the arousal with want and desire. It felt impossibly good when his love took him like this. The mixture of Prowl in complete control and the pleasure centered on Jazz was intoxicating for them both. That they both knew it would end in an intense overload, or three, only heightened the anticipation.
Jazz whined softly, hands reaching for his mate's sensor wings once more, wanting more. Wanting to be stretched and filled until he couldn't walk again, as Prowl had promised. Wanting to feel the charge and rush of overload, and not just his own but that of his mate's.
~You know the delay is worth it,~ Prowl purred as he lapped at the dense network of sensor nodes, teasing them into firing rather than pounding them into firing.
Just because he knew that didn't ease the pleasurable torture in the moment. A soft growl escaped him at having his own words thrown back at him, teasing and challenging as he let the sensations his mate was creating flow back across the bond. ~It is.~
He felt Prowl moan against his platelets, the rush of pleasure it generated in Prowl's frame, but also the determination to take Jazz all the way to the point of no return before filling him in a single powerful stroke. It was a determination that sent a shiver of anticipation through his mate as Jazz stopped fighting to control his reactions to the charge building in his frame and what his mate was doing to him and gave over to feeling once more.
Each stroke of glossa over sensor node sent a wave of pleasure through his frame, savored and shared. The firm, warm support of Prowl's hands on his hips encouraged him to let go, to trust completely. The building desire and anticipation between them, growing as it was accepted and echoed. The soft, warning rumble of Jazz's systems as they worked to counter the heat building in his frame.
Jazz moaned at the first wisps of energy over his plating another fresh rush of lubricant from his valve. His frame began to tremble as Prowl's glossa became more assertive and strong white fingers worked into his hip joints.
~You taste so good. You feel even better," Prowl rumbled, sharing both his current enjoyment and memories of what it felt like for him to press into a valve already spasming in the first stage of overload.
Jazz keened softly, valve rippling in response to what Prowl was sharing with him, inviting. Despite Jazz's desire Prowl knew Jazz's frame at least as well as Jazz did and wasn't going to give into their desire until the timing was perfect. It was a tiny bit of selfishness he indulged himself in, knowing his mate didn't really mind as long as he didn't do it often. This time it wasn't something that he had to wait long for, his mate's cry a split second warning before the other mech lost the shred of control he had over holding his frame back.
Without hesitation Prowl surged upright, grabbed his mate's hips and used momentum and grip to sheath himself fully in the quivering valve. The moan that escaped him was shuddering and came from his core, driven as much by his own love of this as the actual sensations.
The valve around his spike rippled and squeezed, the incoherent pleasure his mate felt at being stretched and taken surging over the bond as Jazz grabbed on to him, already caught in his first overload.
~Primus you feel so good,~ Prowl moaned across their bond, sharing as much as he could of how incredible this felt for him with his mate as he thrust deep and hard. He knew what his mate could take, what he enjoyed, and pushed their coupling to the very limit.
Somewhere amid riding out that first explosive wave Jazz lifted his helm, finding his mate's lips and kissing the other mech passionately as a second charge began to build.
~Take me.~ Jazz begged, pleaded like he would with no one else and for no one else.
~Always,~ Prowl promised as he returned the passionate kiss, his own charge near its crest. ~So good,~ he moaned, trembling and pressing Jazz's back against the rocks behind him a little harder for support. His hands flexed on Jazz's aft, pulling him even closer as Prowl's hips drove into Jazz's relentlessly, chasing the overload that was blooming inside him.
Jazz shifted a leg, wrapping it around his mate and changing everything just enough bring his mate closer, deeper. He moaned, hand reaching around too to find the beautifully spread sensor wings, willing and eager to help find Prowl that first overload.
That shift and touch was enough to cause Prowl to roar into a keen, his optics flashing white then almost off as the long-denied charged crashed through him relentlessly. Jazz's blissful cry matched Prowl's as charged transfluid filled his valve, striking the primed sensor nodes and adding to wonderful rush of his mate's overload.
They remained there, locked together and only able to shiver in ecstasy as wave after wave of energy rolled through them.
~You feel so good, love,~ Prowl whispered across the bond as he began to recover enough control to thrust into that rippling, welcoming valve again.
Jazz's answer was a purr of delight, nuzzling at Prowl as he clung to the other mech, letting actions and emotions tell his mate how good this felt, how good Prowl felt in him and around him on every level.
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Warm and content and with a deep sense of knowing that he was safe and loved, Jazz powered up slowly, coming out of recharge peacefully and almost reluctantly. Vision remained powered off as he simply snuggled into the warm frame wrapped around his own, the safety of the weight against him, as his processor caught up with the rest of him. Finally he smiled and looked up at his mate, nuzzling Prowl affectionately in the dim green light of their optics. ~Thank you, love.~
~It was my pleasure,~ Prowl nuzzled him back, then kissed him softly. The subtle movement reminded them both that Prowl was still buried deep inside his mate. ~Watch the dawn like this, or hazy with pleasure?~
~Like this is good.~ Jazz answered as he laid his helm on his mates' shoulder, optics noting the first flushes of color on the horizon. He shifted enough to free a hand, stroking it over Prowl's armor where a streak of his paint discolored the normally pristine finish of his mate.
~Yes, it is,~ Prowl snuggled in a bit more, shifting his spike inside Jazz as he pulled out so they could face the sunrise together. Prowl wrapped his arms and wings around his mate as they settled into a comfortable position to watch Cybertron's giant yellow-orange sun rise over the jagged metal peaks of the wildlands of Simfur.
It was peaceful and compared to the hustle and bustle of Praxus, or even the smaller compound that Jazz had once called home, and very quiet. Jazz leaned back, listening to the subtle sound of his mate's systems and sensing the deeper feel that that was his mate's spark as the sky changed colors, and shadowed shapes became recognizable features of the land.'
Even though he knew it wasn't going to last, Jazz was sure that he could get very used to this.
~Hold onto these memories,~ Prowl advised gently with a touch of sadness. ~I will not be able to indulge you with them much longer. I should not even now.~
~Close to my spark.~ Jazz promised with a smile, acceptance and contentment clear. He understood. The memories, the knowledge of what Prowl had given him, would be enough.
Prowl nuzzled him, gratitude for that acceptance warm between them as they settled in to watch once more.
The sun had risen far enough to start warming them where they sat before Jazz forced himself to function again, tilting his helm to nuzzle Prowl gently.
"I think I can walk again, love. With some energon in me." He claimed his mate's lips in a soft kiss. "And we should get back to Thunderstorm and Bladesinger."
Prowl, not the least to Jazz's surprise, produced two cubes of energon from his subspace and handed one around to his mate. "Steelplate knows we were distracted. I'd be shocked if our creations were surprised."
That had Jazz chuckling as he accepted the cube, sipping at it slowly and not in a terrible hurry just yet. "I am sure they know more than you and I wish them to. I am sure they are not."
Prowl hummed in agreement and nuzzled Jazz's cheek between sips of energon. "I think it would be more surprising to all three of them if we didn't become distracted by the view."
"Which view?" Jazz quipped with a smile, sharing a quick image of Prowl in a very attractive position, wings flared for balance and concentrating, from the climb the day before.
"This one," Prowl shared an image he'd had repeatedly of Jazz's white aft wiggling only an arm's length away as they climbed, and the slightly more usual angle of that same aft as they walked up the trails.
"I still say we tell them it was this one," Jazz nodded out towards the wildlands as he finished his energon, "Even if there is no way that Steelplate will believe me."
Prowl chuckled softly. "No adult who's paid attention to us together will." He hugged Jazz against his chest, his field and the bond full of warmth and affection. "It's a suitable thing to say, however."
~He would have before I met you.~ Jazz replied as he claimed a kiss from his mate. "Ready to go?"
"Mmm, I suppose I am," Prowl reluctantly let his mate go. "It would be best not to mention this to my kin. At least the part about us coming unguarded."
"We went for a walk. No one else needs to know the details." Jazz pointed out, all innocence as he stretched slowly, discovering that he was a little more sore than he had first thought with a small wince.
"Are you well enough to get down?" Prowl asked with honest concern.
"I'm fine." Jazz was quick to assure him. "Just a little slower, and no show today." He added with mock regret.
"The reward will be a long, warm oil bath soak and shower," Prowl promised, his fingers sliding over Jazz's frame that was marked by his colors. "We might want to get most of this off before returning," he suggested.
"Work on it when we take a break later? I've got some polishing cloths." Jazz suggested even as he leaned into the touch.
"As do I," Prowl tipped his face up for a long, languid kiss. "That is agreeable."
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Jazz made his way through the familiar halls of the House of Crossbeam, taking a route that he had traveled thousands of times and that was so ingrained into him that he could have walked in it his recharge. May have, more than once.
He hadn't quite believed it when he had been informed that his rooms had remained untouched after his departure, left exactly as he had left them on the orn of his leave-taking. It had made his spark twist for a moment, the barest hint of remembered homesickness flickering through him. His sire words were still clear in his memory, spoken on Jazz's bonding day with all the weight of a promise before Primus in them. No matter what happened, the House of Crossbeam would always be a place of refuge and safety for Jazz. But it was a small House, and there were purposes that his rooms could be turned to besides standing empty waiting on a mecha that would probably never return to them.
The door opened to his code and Jazz stepped inside, optics quickly picking out the things that he had come to retrieve. Several datafiles, some of them pictures, other books. Another set of stoneworking tools that had often accompanied him to the field and had been a gift from his brother when he was young. The last few things he wanted were in a box Cadence had been keeping for him, and that Jazz made a note to get back from his brother before they left to return to Praxus.
"Not content with what you have already taken from the House?" A sharp, familiar voice snapped from the doorway.
"I've taken nothing that isn't my personal property," Jazz told Quicksilver, his voice calm and level to an extent it even surprised him a bit. Maybe Prowl and all the time in the larger House learning to be what they expected of a First Bonded had changed him more than he'd expected.
The lithe, silver femme stepped inside the room, red optics making a sweeping check before coming back to rest on Jazz, as critical and judgmental as he recalled.
"The Lord of the House of Shining Sun certainly seems pleased enough with you, though I cannot imagine why. Or has the novelty just not warn off enough yet for him to see you for the spoiled, childish thing that you are?"
There was the Quicksilver he remembered in full, and yet now he could truly see her for the sad creature she was. He knew what love was, devotion, care ... and he didn't need her approval any more. A small smile crossed his features, though she couldn't see it as he went about picking out the few final items he intended to take with him.
"Why don't you ask him?" Jazz suggested sweetly. "He is not shy about expressing his honest opinion of anything he knows."
"Warn him, you mean?" She snapped in return, arms crossing. "Or perhaps you are just keeping him happy with throwing creations at him now. What are you going to do when you can no longer do that and he puts you aside for someone else?"
Jazz actually chuckled. "How I keep him happy is my business. If he does select another as his First Chosen, I will still always be the First Bonded to the Lord of the Shining Sun."
She snorted, the sound bitter. "Bonded status means little, and your status will change once you start causing the sort of trouble for him that you always did for me. You are your carrier's creation, headstrong and willful, for all that your frame resembles your sire's more. May he have the joy of you, when you bring disgrace to his House."
"I give what I receive," he said sweetly, a pointed edge on his tone. "Prowl will do with me as he sees fit."
"Than may he bring you to heel where I could not and make your functioning something useful, and not a waste of space and resources." One hand swept out, lumping Jazz into the same category as the room they were standing in.
A low, deadly growl came from behind her, startling even Jazz. Her reaction was almost comical, optics going bright in surprise reaction-fear as a half turn allowed to see the door once more and the powerful Praxian warrior-lord there, his three-panel sensor wings spread in a blatant threat display and golden optics glowing to a near-white.
Jazz's reaction, while still clearly indicating that he had not expected anyone to come to his rescue, calmed in an instant at the sight of his mate.
Prowl stalked forward and caught Quicksilver's chin, tipping her face up with a knuckle under the rounded metal. "Give me one reason I should not take offense at your words."
"Offense? Warning." Quicksilver replied, voice quivering slightly as she answered, and her frame rigid with tension.
"I am well aware of your hatred of my First Chosen," Prowl's rumble matched the flare and cant of his sensor wings, a movement that Jazz was now well aware meant a willingness to commit violence. It was a willingness his field expressed just as clearly to the femme close to him. "I may not understand what began this fight, but I am quite willing to end it."
The femme in his grasp when limp and submissive as the full impact of the Praxian's field washed over her, optics almost white in fear.
~Let her go love.~ Jazz reached out, pleading across the bond. Not out of any sympathy for the femme in his mate's grasp, but still aware of all the ramifications if his mate were to bring harm to her beyond scaring her out of her processor. ~Please.~
Pale golden optics focused on Jazz. "Her life is yours, as the wronged party," Prowl told his mate, a carefully controlled tendril across the bond expressing how in control Prowl was, that his rage, while founded in reality, was not nearly as intense as his display indicated.
"Trouble, and nothing else." Jazz answered quietly as he looked at the femme. He had moved on from his misery and built a new life, one where he was happy. She might never take that step, and something closer to sympathy filled him. ~She's not worth it. I've learned that.~ "Let her go."
~I'm glad,~ Prowl purred across the bond with a wash of pride and pleasure. Physically, he simply nodded and dropped his hand. "Go," he told Quicksilver. The femme didn't argue, scrambling from the room as quickly as she could manage without a backwards glance or any care for her dignity. Prowl didn't look after her, instead he focused on his mate and drew Jazz close for a tender kiss. ~I hope I didn't overdo that display.~
~I dare say she won't be bothering me again.~ Jazz replied, wrapping his arms around his mate. ~And there is nothing that she can say to anyone else without giving herself away.~
After a moment he pulled back enough to look up into his mate's now-normal optics. ~Thank you.~
~My pleasure,~ Prowl kissed his forehelm. ~Have you gathered what you came for?~
~Everything but that.~ Jazz nodded to a piece of art hanging on the wall. It was a somewhat abstract piece, made of stone and metal, but when one looked closely it very much resembled the view of the wildlands in the rising sun they had witnessed that morning.
~Your work?~ Prowl asked as he regarded the piece after letting Jazz go to retrieve it.
~I sketched the design and did the stonework. I had help with the metalwork.~ Jazz answered, handling it carefully. "I was afraid to bring it with me at first, but since they are going to break these rooms down now I thought I should rescue it while I was here."
"Mmm, your sire is now convinced that you will no longer need to escape from me?" Prowl purred, wrapping his arms carefully around his mate to kiss his cheek.
"He is convinced that I am happy where I am and well taken care of, and that I have no desire to leave my home." He nuzzled Prowl gently, the sense of exactly what he meant by home singing across the bond.
Prowl spark fluttered with several sharp pulses of intense joy. His arms tightened slightly, only his intense self-control keeping him from squeezing too hard. He tried to say something, but his vocalizer refused to form words.
Jazz laughed softly, the sound filled with affection and amusement at his mate's expense as he leaned into the warm frame. ~I love you.~
~I love you, and our family,~ Prowl whispered in reply, his frame trembling minutely in his joy.
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The laughter coming out from the garden had Crossbeam smiling before he even entered the small, sheltered area. He stopped just inside the entrance, waiting for the watchful mech seated on a large stone that had been specifically placed to be sat upon to acknowledge his presence before approaching the sparklings playing on the far side.
His creations' mate was a skillful and powerful mech, and Crossbeam respected him all the more after their stay. It was a great ease to the warrior's spark, seeing how happy his creation was, recalling Jazz's almost rebellion when Jazz had left for Praxus all those orns ago and the underlying hesitation that had been evident in his youngest on the mech's bonding orn. That Prowl loved his mate and family was clear, and Crossbeam found himself realizing that he was going to be sad to see all of them depart on the next orn.
"Prowl. Bladesinger, Thunderstorm." He greeted them all.
"Crossbeam," Prowl inclined his helm with a partial turn to be polite.
"Grandsire," Bladesinger cheered and ran to hug him.
"Crossbeam," Thunderstorm tipped his wing-struts in a flier's greeting.
Bladesinger was caught up in a swift hug, Crossbeam tossing her into the air and smiling as she squealed. Catching her just as easily as he had thrown her he set her back on her feet. "Are you two having fun?"
"Yes grandsire," she grinned up at him. "Even stuck in the slag there is."
"Bladesinger!" Prowl snapped, a scowl marring his strong features.
"Sorry, Sire," her wings flicked down in apology and submission. "Sorry Thunderstorm."
Crossbeam had to work hard to hide the smile that threatened, and even harder to keep his amusement out of his field as stepped back, tweaking her wing gently. "Why don't the two of you keep playing? I am going to go sit with your sire."
She nodded easily and brightened just as quickly before leaping at her brother and tackling him.
Prowl relaxed and chuckled, watching the pair even as he gave Crossbeam his attention.
"Thank you." Crossbeam said quietly as he settled beside the Praxian, watching the sparklings play in the garden.
"For anything in particular, or in general for Jazz?" Prowl asked, his voice equally quiet.
"For Jazz, but for allowing him to come back. For bringing them." His optics flickered to Prowl and then back to the sparklings. "It was not something I had hoped, that my creation would ever return to my House and be happy. That he has found happiness in this functioning is because of you."
"My sire has three loving relationships, though two were political bondings he barely knew before the contracts were signed. I learned a great deal from him, and them," Prowl smiled softly. "Early on, Jazz asked what I wanted. I told him what was expected of him, and what I hoped for; a mate who was with me because he wanted to be by my side. Jazz chose to put the effort into building what we have, a choice I am grateful for each orn."
"You gave him what he was looking for, what he needed." Crossbeam answered. "I see that now."
A squeal interrupted the conversation for a moment, both mechs focusing on the sparklings in an instant, only to see that Bladesinger had been momentarily pinned by her brother and was clearly unhappy about the fact. A second later she was free and the game was on once more.
Crossbeam smiled in amusement as the chase led up a sturdy tree this time. "Am I to expect more grand creations in the future?"
"Many," Prowl purred at the thought. "Not entirely because it is expected of me. I offered that to Jazz as well. Once he produced a healthy sparkling for me to call an heir, I would not demand another from him. I will have other bonded mates that could be used for that. It turned out that once he could feel her, he became quiet enamored with being a carrier. He has recently increased the number he would like to have to eight or so."
"He is very much like his carrier." Crossbeam admitted, a sadness settling over the older mech. "It will be up to you to watch him. He will not stop himself, I am afraid."
A flicker of tension ran through Prowl. "Carrying weakened her spark?"
"Her spark was not strong to begin with." Crossbeam countered, tilting his helm to look at Prowl. "I was one of the younger creations of the House, and a simple warrior with little political value. Ours was a love match from the beginning. We were warned after Cadence separated that it would be unwise for her to carry again. After I became a lord of my own house ... she insisted on carrying another."
There was a long silence before Crossbeam added. "It is the only argument we ever had that I regret loosing with her."
"I will be careful," Prowl promised. "Jazz's spark is very strong and our medic is a fine one. I do not intend to loose him foolishly."
Crossbeam nodded before changing the subject. "I believe he would follow you anywhere, now. You intend to allow to accompany you on the battlefield?"
"Once he has completed the training he needs to be there," Prowl nodded. "He is a fine warrior in the making, and a fine officer when he believes in himself."
"A process which you have already set into motion." Crossbeam actually smiled a bit. "It has not escaped my notice that my Second Bonded watches herself very carefully around him now, and avoids him when she can."
Prowl chuckled lightly. "I believe it finally sank in that her manipulations to be rid of him has granted him rank well in excess of hers, and that he no longer fears her. It was a pleasure for me to witness his growth as a mech and a warrior in that confrontation."
"I can only imagine." Red visor went dim for a moment as he just listened. "You will all be missed when you return home."
"You will always be welcome as my guest, Crossbeam," Prowl extended an offer he had not before. "Jazz cares deeply for you and our creations like you. It would make them all very happy to see you when you can visit."
"I thank you." Crossbeam replied, his field revealing a hint of relief at the fact that Prowl had no desire to separate him from any of his family. "And know my House will always be a place of refuge for you and yours in times of need."
"As my sword will defend yours should you and yours seek refuge in mine," Prowl said the formal exchange even as he meant it.
Crossbeam settled, nodding in acceptance, field going thoughtful again. "You mentioned other bondeds. Are you seeking one already?"
"No," Prowl shook his helm. "I do not expect I will seek a second any more than I sought a first. Alliance bonds have always been a part of the Lord's duties for the Shinning Sun. Vos will seek one eventually, as will at least one of the other primary Praxian Houses. Iacon, Crystal City and Altihex often do as well. Often they come as part of the peace treaty with a defeated House. My sire was somewhat unusual in only having three."
"I wish you the same peace that he seems to have found." Crossbeam answered after a moment.
"Thank you," Prowl said, his field expressing just how much he wished for the same. "I hope the first negotiation will not be until these two are grown, at least," he admitted softly. "Jazz has come far, but he still needs time to settle into his role and his rights."
"He will." Calm confidence filled the response as Crossbeam settled to watch Thunderstorm and Bladesinger play, content with the peaceful scene and the presence of his grandcreations for the time they were there.
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The Military Lord and the Hero's Creation