Title: Taming the Prince
Characters: Prowl
Genre: Romance, Humour
Description: High lord Proton of Cybertron, has 3 different sons. Prince Smokescreen helps his dad, Prince Bluestreak prefers to stay in the garden and train, and Prince Prowl prefers sitting alone, and PAINT? Will a servant change Prowl into a prince of Love?
(Note: has no relations to my other stories, only mentions of Hydrid, Aqua, Proton, Smokescreen, Prowl and Bluestreak, and Jazz, nothing else!)
'...Blah...' Normal conversation
'...blah...' flashback talking
...blah... Thoughts aloud
Over the same week...
Prowl and Jazz grew closer since the kiss they shared. With each step closer into their relationship, Prowl finally showed more of his emotion; his emotion of love, towards someone he cared about.
One day...
Prowl sat in his chamber, adding the final strokes to the canvas, paint smudged all over his armour, but he didn't care now. He just carried on with his canvas, hoping to finish it. What was so special about this canvas?
He stretched his joints when he finished with the canvas. 'Time for energon.' he said, covering the canvas, and walking out the room, closing the door behind him.
The Prince walked down the staircase, to the kitchen and grabbed his energon, and took a stroll through the garden, when he heard footsteps approach him.
Prowl turned around, facing his brothers approaching him.
'Twin? I've never seen you so happy before. AND you're out in the garden? What's happened to my twin?' Bluestreak asked.
Prowl smiled back. 'I've changed bro.'
'I'll say...' Smokescreen said. 'Since Jazz has been here you definitely have changed. Old friends reunited again after years apart.'
Prowl nodded in agreement.
'So,' Bluestreak clapped his hands together. 'Archery anyone?'
From all those years they never hang out together as brothers, the Princes played archery in the garden...
Even without not having lessons on archery, Prowl kept his cool when he didn't get high scores, but gradually after more and more rounds, he finally got the top score over his brothers.
Jazz soon joined them outside, watching Prowl smiling again, enjoying some time with his brothers after what seemed like years.
'Hey Prowler, Smokey, Blue?' Jazz approached the princes.
The brothers turned around.
'Oh, now got nicknames for us aswell,' Smokescreen rolled his optics. 'First Prowler just weeks ago, now Smokey and Blue. Something ain't right.'
'Wanna practise some archery, Jazz-y?' Bluestreak asked. Smokescreen laughed at the nickname.
'Okay okay okay, I get it,' Jazz replied, laughing along with the brothers. 'Ok. Ah'll 'ave a go.'
Jazz picks up the bow and arrow, and aims at the target, when a gust of wind blew.
Prowl steps up beside Jazz, much to his brothers' astonishment. 'Check the wind speed Jazz. Know which way it blows... Aim in the opposite direction of the wind speed, depending on how strong it is, and release the arrow.'
Jazz did feel the direction the wind travelled. He moved slightly in the opposite direction, and released the arrow. It was caught in the wind, and moved in a slight diagonal line from where he was, but the arrow hits in the dead centre.
The brothers gasped at the first attempt, Prowl and Jazz smiling back at them.
Jazz was proud of his first go, when he looked at his schedule. 'Oops! Got meh shift now. Gotta go...' he hands the bow to Prowl, and rushes off towards the palace.
Later...
Jazz was going through his schedule, noting the next task of energon delivery to the chambers.
He rushed off to the kitchen, where he encountered Anoa.
'Prowl asked you to meet him in his chamber later today. Said it was urgent,' Anoa told Jazz.
'Did 'e say what 'bout?' Jazz asked.
Anoa shook his head. 'Said not to ruin the surprise.'
Jazz flinched, and wondered what he wanted.
Jazz hurried with the energon delivery, and left Prowl's energon till last, so he could go to the chamber and fine out what Prowl wanted.
Upon arriving at Prowl's chamber, and knocking, he got no answer.
'Prowler?'
No response.
Jazz turned the lock, and entered the room, looking around.
No sign of Prowl at all.
Then something caught Jazz's optics.
A painting. Just a painting stood on a stand by the window, with a cover over it.
Jazz did a double check around the room, noticing no sound or movement, and he slowly approached the canvas.
Peering at it, he uncovered the cover, and gasped.
Looking back at him, was himself!
'I guess you saw it then before I could introduce it.'
Jazz turned around, to see Prowl leaning against the door entrance from his private storage room, arms folded.
'Sorry 'bout that man. Just ... curious.' Jazz hung his head, embarrased.
'No need for apologizes Jazz. It's a sign of weakness.' Prowl said, walking up to Jazz and the canvas. 'I drew this for you.'
Jazz looked at the painting. The painting was of himself, all correctly coloured, many different shades and techniques applied to make it fabulous.
'I sighed it aswell...' Prowl points to his signature on the bottom right hand corner of the page. 'I wanted it to be special... It's my thanks, along with that karaoke machine from last week.'
'Prowler... Tha machine was enough. Ya didn't 'ave ta...' Jazz said.
'I felt I had to Jazz. A present of pure work and skill to make it the best was worth this effort. I drew this especially for you.'
Jazz raised his hand, running it over the canvas, getting that feel of his real armour feel on the canvas. Looked just like him, felt like him, exactly like him, special like him. Jazz wiped the tear from his optic. 'It's brilliant Prowler... Thank you.'
'Thank you too Jazz, for everything. A best friend a Prince could ask for.' Prowl replied.
Jazz went red.
Prowl wrapped his arms around Jazz's waist, pulling him close to him. Jazz laid his head on Prowl's chestplait, feeling the spark beat of his lover's spark. They stared into each other's optics, before their lips met.
'Ah love ya Prowler...'
'I do love you too Jazz.. No matter my status, I choose who I love and who I don't love.'
Jazz smiled, and brought their lips together.
Prowl's doorwings flinched. 'I almost forgot.'
'What?' Jazz asked.
'Yesterday, we visited the council block in Iacon, Optimus wanted to pass a message to me from dad.' Prowl remembered, and walks out the room.
The Prince walked towards his dad's office, and entered.
He found his dad stood against the window, looking across the garden.
'Dad? You called Prime to pass a message to me?' Prowl asked.
Proton bowed his head, and turned to face his son, as Jazz entered at that moment. 'Son... I received a comlink from Ratchet at the medical centre... It's little Angel. She's gone...'
Prowl's optics widened. 'What?'
'She was critical yesterday, and died earlier this morning... I'm sorry... She wanted to see you before she left...'
Prowl's spark couldn't handle the stress, and he collapsed on the floor. Proton and Jazz rushed to his side, and carried the Prince to his chamber, laying his down on the berth.
'I knew he wouldn't handle it...' Proton shook his head.
The sparkling who had become great friends with Prince Prowl, little Angel had died without seeing her favourite Prince there to meet him.
Now Prowl has crashed again. Will the Prince remain calm for once, without going back mad?
What are the consequences with this new friend of Jazz's who meets the visored mech on the tram home, making Prowl concerned.
Please read on to find out. Please review if you haven't.