Chapter Text
Ricochet was crowned almost immediately, in a small, sombre ceremony. Anything more elaborate seemed inappropriate since King Recoil’s funeral had just preceded it no more than a joor previous. The late king had been entombed alongside his beloved sparkmate with the honors of his rank and estate.
After the funerary rites had been performed and the new king acclaimed, the city-state threw itself into the preparations for the royal wedding of Prince Jazz to Duke Prowl. The gloom and sadness melting away to welcome in a new beginning for the kingdom. The wedding was to be a great celebration of unification and of the reopening of the border between Polyhex and Praxus.
While most of the courtiers busied themselves with the wedding preparations, Ricochet quietly dismissed or arrested the courtiers who had backed his sire. Some of them had just been too afraid to go against the Mad King, but some had been feeding into his delusions to get power for themselves.
The wedding was to take place in the Polyhexian capital since Jazz had a higher status than his soon-to-be bondmate, though more celebrations were planned for when they arrived at the Duke’s home in Azurite for their honeymoon. Through the planning, the Praxian royal court was present in the capital as honored guests.
And, of course, this meant that not only were there glossas waggling about Prince Jazz and Duke Prowl, but also about the interactions between the two kings. Fortunately most of the rumors were positive; the Polyhexian populace loved their new king and the Praxian king was charming and well-liked.
With the Duke of Azurite came a multitude of fine courting gifts for the prince. Everything from a crystal berry tree to paintings. A diamond encrusted fan, exotic Praxian fuel, and a fancy chalice that the fuel came in. The most memorable gift, however, was a blue crystalline turbohound puppy, budded and sparked from a line of turbohound only found in Praxus. When presented with the tiny mecha-animal, Jazz had cooed and cuddled it close to him. It now followed him everywhere, basking in his attention. He’d named it Lapis.
Through all of this, Jazz and Prowl had grown closer. Able to spend time together without any looming threats hanging over them. It was as if they were trying to make up for lost time, though they were to be bonded and would spend the rest of their functioning together. Their walks and conversations were the best part of Jazz’s cycles and they could often be found together.
The flurry of preparations finally came to a head on a bright morning several orns after Ricochet’s coronation. Ricochet had entered Jazz’s chambers along with the dozen servants who were there to polish and wax him to a crystalline shine.
“Are you nervous?” Ricochet teased lightly.
“Only that my brother is going to outshine me at my own bonding ceremony.” Jazz snarked back with a smile.
Ricochet laughed. It was a pure, happy sound that was becoming more and more common as time separated them from the past. “I would never dream of such a thing, Jazzy.”
It was expected that Ricochet would be resplendent as a King should be. He was also polished and waxed, his flame accents having been retouched that very morning, and he wore a layered red and gold cape with his heraldry embroidered on the back. He was also wearing a fabulously elaborate crown gifted to him by King Smokescreen. Red, orange and yellow garnet caught the light and sparkled like dancing flames upon his helm.
Ricochet continued, “By the time your attendants are done with you, everybot will forget I’m even present.”
Jazz chuckled, “I doubt it.”
Ricochet gracefully sidestepped around the fluttering servants and the turbohound pup as it gamboled around in the jovial chaos. He took Jazz’s servos into his own, “I just want you to know that I’m glad you’re happy. I had my doubts about Duke Prowl, but I can see that he cares for you a great deal. In fact I think the mech would attempt to move mountains if it meant your happiness.”
Jazz’s smile grew warm and besotted. “Yes. I care for him a great deal as well.”
Ricochet squeezed his servos. “Good. Well, I’ll get out of the way then and leave your primping to the professionals, shall I?”
He dodged a playful flick of a polishing cloth from Quickgrip who was overseeing the prince’s preparations and moved to stand out of the way. Jazz had been visibly relieved when his carrier-like servant had come out of hiding after their return to the palace.
Jazz had no reason to worry about being outshone by his brother. When the servants were done, he was standing in shimmering gloss. In one servo he held the diamond fan. On his waist in a magnetized holster was the crystal dagger. A white cape, embroidered all over in a geometric diamond pattern, encrusted with tiny chips of white crystal, trailed long behind him and a diamond and sapphire silver diadem sat on his helm from which flowed a servo-spun steel-silk lace veil which had belonged to his carrier. His arms and neck cables were laden with more sapphires set in ornate frames of silver. His personal heraldry had been stenciled on his chestplates in glittering enamel, but the small brooch with the Duke’s heraldry rested between his headlights.
Lapis yipped and bounded gleefully over to his master, but was caught by Quickgrip. “Not this time, little nibbler.” She chided gently. Before he could squirm out of her hold, she had somehow slipped an embellished harness and leash on him that matched Jazz’s cape. The turbohound didn’t seem to know what to do when she put him down, helm cocking back and forth in confusion. Jazz chuckled and knelt down scratching him under the chin which set his tail wagging.
When he stood up again, Ricochet asked, “Are you ready?” He had a soft, yet bittersweet smile on his dermas. After the bonding ceremony and celebration Jazz wouldn’t live in the capital anymore. Of course he’d be welcome to visit at any time, but he would be spending most of his time divided between living in the holdings of Azurite in Praxus and Aire Meads in Polyhex, traveling between the two with Prowl.
Jazz gave his brother a smile and a gentle brush of love through his field. “I am.”
Ricochet offered his arm lightly. “Then let’s get you to the cathedral.”
They traveled to the cathedral in a small open air transport. Jazz and Ricochet sat in the forward facing seats waving to the cheering crowds that lined the streets while Quickgrip sat unobtrusively on the other side of the transport and kept hold of Lapis’ leash. She was joined by two other servants who would hold up the long train of the cape for Jazz as he walked.
The Praxians were already waiting at the cathedral.
Collectively, they’d decided that for maximum theatrics, Ricochet and Smokescreen would “give away” Jazz and Prowl on the cathedral steps so that the most amount of bots could see it. Then he and Smokescreen would enter after them together. Adding yet another block to the building trust between the two city-states.
As Ricochet helped Jazz out of the transport, the prince could see Prowl waiting for him in the huge, open doubled doors of the cathedral. And though the much more colorful Praxian King stood beside him, Jazz only had optics for the regal white and black mech. Polished to a nearly mirror shine visible even under the suit of crystal armor; this was far lighter and more ornamental than his battle armor. He was sans the faceplate-blocking helmet, which was tucked securely under his arm. This armor was for awe and show rather than any sort of fight. Prowl seemed just as riveted, staring with adoration at the mech who would soon be his bondmate as Ricochet led Jazz up the steps.
They did not have time to speak as the theatrics of the ceremony had already begun.
“Duke Prowl of Azurite,” Ricochet said, voice carrying over the hush that had fallen over the crowd, “I give into your care Our beloved brother.” He gently extended Jazz’s arm into the space between them.
Smokescreen spoke next, raising Prowl’s arm in the same manner. “Prince Jazz of Polyhex, I give into your care Our gentle cousin.”
They clasped servos and, after Jazz gave his brother a kiss on the cheekridge, they walked in through the doors together. The cathedral was full to bursting with standing-room only.
Prowl and Jazz stood before the priests, one Polyhexian, one Praxian. The ceremony was a mix of Polyhexian and Praxian traditions. This was most apparent when it came time for the exchange of bonding gifts.
The Duke presented the Prince with a finely crafted crystal dagger; a match to the one he wore on his waist. It, too, had a magnetic sheath and Prowl affixed it to his other side, complimenting the original.
“In remembrance of our first meeting.” Prowl said with a soft smile.
“I will treasure it just as I have the first one you gave me.” Jazz promised.
The Prince’s bonding gift to the Duke was a song he’d composed that he sang right there in front of the whole assembly.
“In honor of your integrity and fortitude.” Jazz said when he’d finished.
“You humble me with your talent.” Prowl replied.
Then, bright bands of colored ribbon were wrapped around their joined servos, signifying their bond. The Polyhexian priest proclaimed them to be bonded in the optics of Primus. They brought the crests of their forehelms together and the Praxian priest rained down gold and silver shavings out of a crystal chalice over their bowed helms signifying the same in the Praxian tradition.
Then Prowl kissed Jazz ever-so-gently and the cathedral erupted into cheers.
They rode back to the palace together in a transport while Ricochet and Smokescreen rode in their own transport, preceding them. Lapis was finally allowed to sit happily on his master’s lap on the ride back.
“Jazz,” Prowl leaned over and murmured to him as they passed the exuberant crowds. He sounded strangely hesitant, at odds with the current atmosphere. Jazz looked at him questioningly. He continued, “perhaps this isn’t the time to ask, but I wish to know… could you, perhaps in the future, find it in your spark to… learn to love me as I have come to love you?”
Jazz leaned in so that he could rest his helm crest on Prowl’s again. His field reached out warm and sure. “That may be quite difficult, your Grace, since I think I’m already in love with you.”
Prowl learned back in surprise, doorwings fluttering, then a jubilant smile took over his dermas and he kissed Jazz again, field full of love, hope and joy.
When they arrived back at the palace, the feast had been laid out. Table had been spread out from the great hall to the courtyard for all who wished to enter and partake. Different minstrels entertained in every space.
After the feast, the great hall had been cleared and the dancing began. Not only did the newly bonded couple dance, but the two kings did as well, sharing a silent smile at the memory of their youngling selves.
And in true Polyhexian tradition, the party didn’t end until dawn.
Epilogue:
10 Orns Later
Ricochet transformed gratefully after a long day of driving. Around him, the royal retinue did the same and then began to unpack the transport in the courtyard of the Silver House in Aire Meads. Jazz and Prowl had invited both Ricochet and Smokescreen to their spring and summer home to celebrate the summer solstice.
Jazz emerged out of the doors of the Silver House with a bright welcoming smile and a flurry of servants in tow. A now grown Lapis trotted loyally at his pedes. Behind him Prowl emerged at a more sedate pace, but with a similar welcoming smile.
As Ricochet got close enough to mesh fields with Jazz, he felt a difference. True, he’d not seen his brother in several orns, though they kept in close contact through letters. Since he’d known Jazz for his whole functioning, he noticed it immediately. There was a layer to his field that hadn't been there before, but his brother’s EMF felt light and happy. Almost… effervescent in a way…
In a flash it hit him, his own field surged joyfully. He took Jazz’s servos in his own. “You’re with spark.” He said in wonderment.
Jazz laughed merrily. “I told you he would know as soon as he got close to me,” he said over his shoulder to his bondmate.
Prowl smiled. “So you did, my love.”
“Congratulations!” Ricochet laughed, giving Jazz an enthusiastic, if still gentle, hug.
“Have you told anybot else yet?”
“You’re the first to know!” Jazz said, taking Ricochet’s servo to lead him inside. “We’ll share the good news with King Smokescreen when he arrives tomorrow.”
Ricochet smiled as he listened to Jazz speak in eager excitement about their plans for the sparkling’s rooms, specs, and potential designations. Behind them, Prowl’s EMF provided a calm, protective barrier at their backs as he kept pace with the brothers, but let the two of them catch up without being overbearing.
Jazz’s happiness filled Ricochet’s spark with joy and warmth. It tempered the nervous anticipation he was feeling at seeing Smokescreen again. The small datapad upon which Ricochet had written a courting poem for Smokescreen felt weighted in his subspace. But it felt like the right time to make his suit. They treasured their deep friendship and often traveled to see one another.
And the flirting between the two of them had begun to reach truly ridiculous levels.