I'm so ashamed at how long it took me to do this, I'm very sorry!

Units of time as I use them:

Klick – a second

Breem – a minute

Joor – an hour

Cycle – a day

Decacycle – 10 days

Groon – a month

Orn – a decade

Vorn – a century

{bond chatter}

::Comm. chatter::

Jazz's Carrier fussed over him as they waited. His Sire was just as fussy, although he was much better at hiding it.

"Hold still!" Rhythm scolded as Jazz flinched away at the cold brush. "If this is messy, you wont be pleased!"

"Nobody here knows what it's meant ta look like anyway." Jazz pouted. "Ah thought we were doing this Praxian style-"

"I wont have any of it." Rhythm cut him off. "I was painted, your grandcarrier was painted, your great grandcarrier was painted – you are going to be painted too. With Primus as my witness, you will have this done properly."

Tempo just made a cutting gesture across his throat. Don't fight it.

Resigning to his fate, knowing that it'd probably get them in a bit of trouble, Jazz relaxed marginally and allowed his Carrier to paint him.

"When this dries, it should only come up when you're under a crystals light." Rhythm said. "That way, if they have a problem with it, they can just change the lightning."

"But isn't crystal light the traditional way to light things here?"

Rhythm smirked. "Not our problem."

Evil, pure evil. Jazz looked up at his Sire to see what his reaction was, only to see him looking out of the window instead. His view of him was cut off when Rhythm stood and started attacking his face with the paintbrush.

"There, done. That wasn't so bad, was it?" She chided as she cleaned the brush and packed away the paints back into her subspace.

"When can Ah move?" Jazz asked, feeling a little abused.

"In a moment." Rhythm replied before sitting down next to him. "I'm sorry this day isn't exactly how you wanted it."

"Ah don't mind." Jazz replied, "It'll be interesting ta see how they do things."

"I did try to make it more familiar for you, for us." Rhythm gently placed her hand over her creations. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. The mech on the planning committee… was a bit of an aft."

Jazz snorted with laughter while Tempo allowed an amused sound to escape him, giving Rhythm an affectionate look. "He wasn't that bad." He chided.

"He has a stick up his aft!" Rhythm protested, "We couldn't possibly do that, ma'am, think of the noise complaints!" She badly mimicked his voice, pulling a strange expression and sticking her elbows out, pressing her wrists to her hips to mimic wings. "Peh! It's only a little bit of music, Primus forbid we enjoy ourselves at our creations bonding ceremony!"

"It's Prowls day just as much as it is Jazz's." Tempo reminded her, "Although I admit that I'm a little upset we were excluded from the planning."

"Might surprise us." Jazz replied.

Melody was making sure Reggae was okay and that his ability, should it go off, was it it's lowest setting to reduce the amount of danger it could put others in. Once satisfied, she too turned her attention on Jazz.

Her older brother noticed how her hands trembled, even as she tried to hide it. By distracting his creators with the matters of attendance, Jazz took her off to the side.

"Melody? What's wrong?" He asked, kneeling so to be closer to her height.

"I had a terrible dream." Melody uncertainly began. "I know Sire says it's nonsense and Carrier tells me to ignore them but- it, it just felt so real and... I'm scared about you, Jazz."

"What did ya see ?" He asked, taking her smaller hands into his own and gently rubbed the back of them.

"You. I saw you, but... You didn't look like you. And Prowl, but he wasn't Prowl. Both of you were suffering, and there was screaming and you died-" the last word came out as a choked sob, and Jazz was quick to soothe her.

"Shhh, shh it's okay. It's okay, don't cry, Ah'll be fine. Ah got ma trainin'." Jazz replied, making to stand as he heard approaching footsteps.

"Is everything alright?" Reggae asked, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.

"Just fine. I was reminiscing with Jazz, is all." Melody said, wiping away the coolant that had gathered in the corner of her optic. "Apparently there will be dancing, would you be my partner?"

"Unless anyone else asks you, yes." Reggae replied.

"Are ya sure it's acceptable for siblings ta do that here?" Jazz asked. "Ah know ya don't have that kinda relationship but others may not see it that way."

"I see no reason why we shouldn't." Melody firmly replied. "Besides, it's not as if we'll be doing anything major. Reggae can't dance."

"Hey! I can do the living room routine-"

"Only just, after lots of practice. Even the dance instructor gave up on you."

Reggae just grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and huffing in embarrassment. "Whatever."

"But from what Ah've been told, ya very good with ya trainin'." Jazz said. "Better than Ah was at ya age."

"Apparently you were a late bloomer, focusing more on dancing than protecting yourself." Reggae replied.

"Sounds 'bout right."

"Sir Prowl won't like that." A new voice said. Five surprised faces looked up to see a femme standing in the doorway. "Ah, forgive me. I am Oort, ladyservant to Lord Smokescreen. It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine." Jazz replied, making to shake her hand. Oort stepped back, brushing against a table next to the door. The crystal sat on it barely moved.

"That will not be necessary. I was sent to retrieve Tempo and Rhythm of Polyhex." Her optics landed on Rhythms. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise." Rhythm dryly replied. "Does our host wish to see us?"

"He does, I shall lead you to him."

With a sad parting glance, Jazz's creators left the room. Once the door was shut, Melody sighed.

"She gives me the creeps."

"Ah've never seen her until now." Jazz replied. "I wonder if she was away?"

Reggae was fixated on the table by the door, and then stalked towards it, snatching up a small black box. "This wasn't here before."

"Wha' is it?"

"I think it's a camera." Reggae said, turning it to catch the light. When he saw what he wanted, he carefully prised it open. Sure enough, there was recording equipment inside.

"Why would they want to spy on us?" Melody asked, flinching as Reggae clenched his fist around it, effectively crushing it. The pathetic sparks that followed proved that it was indeed now useless.

"A question we'll have ta ask them." Jazz replied.

"It could make things tense and awkward." Melody pointed out. "We should just wait and see what their reaction is."

"It's gunna be tense and awkard either way." Jazz replied, "They have a reason for doing that, an' Ah wanna know why they're doing it to my siblings."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Reggae asked.

"Ah'll have ta wait until Ah'm alone with Prowl." Jazz replied, "Ah'm not allowed to see him yet."

"I'll go." Melody happily replied. "There's nothing stopping me, right?"

"No, but-"

"See you at the ceremony!"

Melody ran from the room.

"Melody!" Jazz shouted, about to step out the door before catching himself on the frame. "Dammit!"

"I'll make sure she doesn't get into any trouble." Reggae replied, following her at a much more sedate pace. Jazz shut the door and huffily sat down, his hands itching to pick off the decoration on his frame.

Prowl was nervous.

He knew Jazz. He knew him well. Could he say that he loved him? Probably not, but in arranged bondings that didn't matter. It mattered to Prowl, though. He'd work hard for Jazz. He didn't want to hurt him.

He sat alone in his quarters, the serving staff seeing to his decorations having already been and gone. All he had to do now was endure an agonising wait before someone came to collect him. Leaving his quarters was forbidden in the off chance he saw Jazz.

Polyhexian bonding ceremonies were vastly different to Praxian ones - he had tried to convince the planning committee to merge the two together but he wasn't sure how successful he was. This was Jazz's day as much as it was his; it wasn't fair to make Jazz celebrate their way. The last time he had spoken (read: argued) with them, it was 90% to 10% in favour to Praxian rituals. Prowl had been livid.

If this day wasn't at least 60% to 40%, he'd be fuming and marching straight up to the dickwad who allowed it to pass.

Hopefully Jazz wouldn't be too upset by this...

Prowl tensed when there was a knock at the door. Swallowing his nerves, he stood and called for them to enter.

Much to his surprise, it wasn't any of the serving staff. A young Polyhexian femme came in instead, quietly shutting the door behind her.

"Sir Prowl," she said with a bow, "I hate to intrude."

"At ease." Prowl walked over to her and gestured for her to stand, "You are not intruding."

Melody released the breath she had anxiously held. "Cool! Uh- right." Melody frowned and bit her cheek. Foot in mouth already! Prowls facial expression didn't change, as indifferent as always. A good sign? Or a bad sign? She honestly didn't know.

"Sir, please be kind to my brother."

Prowl didn't know how to react. Who even was sh-

Polyhexian... Jazz's little sister? Melody?

It had been so long since he had seen her face to face he had almost forgotten what she looked like, and of course only Melody would have the confidence to waltz right into his quarters without invitation.

"I will try my best." Prowl replied, kneeling down. "How is he?"

"He's nervous." Melody honestly replied. "A femme Carrier gets snippy with has already given us trouble."

Prowl frowned. "Do you know their name? I'll have a word with them."

"No, I'm sorry. I think she mentioned Lord Smokescreen?" Melody silently cursed herself. Why didn't she remember the name?! She knew it was weird as hell, but that was probably under Polyhexian standards… To Prowl it may not have been weird..! Was she the weird one now?! She almost didn't hear his reply due to her mental rambling.

"Was she with him?"

"N-no."

"Then I'll see to it that I will speak with them." Prowl assured her. "I am sorry for the trouble."

"Thank you." Melody's mouth was dry and she toyed with the thought of asking Prowl about her dream, when they heard footsteps approaching Prowls door.

"Quick, behind the curtain." Prowl ordered, ushering her in the direction of the window. "I'm not sure how they will react if they see you here."

Melody was quick to hide herself, crouching down so she was behind a table that the curtain passed. There was a knock at the door.

Prowl called for them to enter.

A few seconds later, the two of them had left. Melody waited a few minutes before leaving herself.

Reggae was waiting for her around the corner.

"Jazz is quite annoyed at you." Reggae said, linking their arms together and walking down the hallway. "You're not as bulletproof as you'd have yourself believe." He scolded.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I try get out a little!"

Reggae didn't bother to reply. He simply set his mouth in a line and continued to drag Melody back to where Jazz was. It was an argument they'd had many, many times before.

A red, black, and gold femme stood by the altar. Her arms were crossed as she leaned from side to side, shifting her weight from leg to leg while she waited.

A small vial of bright pink oil sat on the altar behind her, along with a length of silver and gold cord, a jar of salt, a hunk of mineral, a candle, and the feather of a turbohawk. A large crystal the size of a medium dog sat behind the altar, hidden from the crowd that was due to gather.

Only close family and a select few friends would be allowed within this room. In the middle of it was a circle, laid out by a ring of crystals that hummed a familiar tune. During the ceremony, they would give the only light.

A single chair was set close to the door. They assumed it was for the Lady of the citystate, although if the rumors were true she wouldn't be attending due to poor health. A shame, as if the other rumors were true, this would be the only ceremony she'd be attending for her creations.

Lord Smokescreen entered with Lady Rhythm and Lord Tempo, the latter two arm in arm. It was almost sickeningly sweet how close they were. Lord Smokescreen stood next to the chair, while the Polyhexian nobles stood to his right.

Smokescreen raised an optic ridge at this, but didn't comment.

The femme walked over to the three of them. "Welcome, my name is Windblade."

"'I'm glad you could make it." Lord Smokescreen said, allowing her to shake his hand. Tempo did the same, Rhythm instead leaning forwards and touching their cheeks together. Windblade took it in stride, mimicking the action. So they were Polyhexian, she thought. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Rhythm said as she pulled away. "What can we expect? This looks quite different to what we are used to."

"These crystals," She said, pointing at the circle, "Will be used for lighting. Once the other guests have arrived I'll turn off the lights and light that candle," She pointed at the candle, "and the crystals will start glowing. The two intendeds will enter, Prowl through the left door and Jazz through the right. They'll come together in the circle and I'll take it from there." She offered her a smile. "Nothing too elaborate."

Rhythm nodded and thanked her, although she still wasn't satisfied. She had read through the datapad Lord Smokescreen had given her, however it was rather… lacking on what actually went on during the ceremony. All she knew was that the reception afterwards lasted two cycles, although neither Prowl nor Jazz were required to attend. It was simply something for the masses to enjoy and use as an excuse to get overcharged. Slowly, other mechs and femmes filtered in. A white and blue mech with optics the colour of honey slunk towards Tempo and Rhythm, stooping into a bow when in front of them.

"My Lord, my Lady." He greeted them. The taller green mech at his side dipped into a bow too, although clearly somewhat out of sorts.

"Mirage, it's wonderful to see you again." Rhythm greeted him, the two straightening up. "And this is Hound, I assume?"

The green mech stooped his head. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise." Rhythm smiled. Tempo was glad that his bondmate was handling the social interactions – he sucked at it. He simply gave both Mirage and Hound a nod. "Have you been well?" He asked the pair.

"Very." Mirage replied. He opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted by a loud cough.

Jazz's grandcreators stared at Mirage until he backed away.

"They were friendly." Hound said as the two of them left to find their positions, marked out on the floor by simple name cards.

"I do hope you mean the Lord and Lady of our citystate."

"I do."

"Good." Mirage sniffed. "Their elders leave much to be desired. I wanted to arrange a time to see them."

A few more mechs entered, a number looking distinctly Praxian, before Windblade called for quiet and turned off the lights. The candle on the altar was lit, and the crystals forming the circle in the middle of the room began to glow. It was almost ethereal.

Windblade took her position in front of the altar and gestured to two doors, beginning when the two opened.

"I welcome Prowl and Jazz who have come here today to join hands and celebrate their union to one another in the company of us all."

True to her word, Jazz had entered in through the right, and Prowl the left. Neither looked at the other, Prowl the epitome of indifference and Jazz the embodiment of well-contained nerves. Windblade paused for a moment as she noticed that Jazz was…. Shimmering. Were those designs painted on him? She risked a glance at the Polyhexian nobles and saw that the femme – Rhythm – had a smirk on her face. She glanced at Lord Smokescreen. He looked somewhat irritated.

It was best to ignore it and just continue, she decided. When she turned her attention to the monochrome pair in front of her, she twitched when she realized that the two had swapped places – Prowl was meant to be on the left, not the right! Another deviation… Lord Smokescreen would not be pleased with these two. But she did like that they were breaking from the norm.

She took Jazz's left hand and Prowls right and gestured for them to kneel. Releasing their hands, she picked up the vial of oil and dipped her thumb in before smearing it across their foreheads in a streak of pink.

"I anoint thee that Primus may smile upon your union. Blessed be."

Prowl stood first, Jazz being a second behind him. She took hold of their hands again.

"You have come here together today, is it your wish to be bonded to one another?"

Prowl went first. "Yes." His gaze didn't waver.

Jazz gave a little nod. "Yes."

"Then I bind your hands in token of the bond you would make with each other."

Windblade took the cord from the table and began to intricately wind their hands together, Jazz's left to Prowls right. She tied it off with a delicate little bow and gently lifted their hands so they were in sight of the other guests. "Let all present bear witness that Prowl and Jazz are jointed together as equals, as bondmates, supporting each other. Let Primus bring blessings upon them and on their union together. Blessed be."

Windblade gestured for Lord Smokescreen and Lord Tempo to come forwards. Lord Smokescreen knew exactly what to do; he firmply grasped one side of the crystal. Lord Tempo quickly grabbed onto the other side, and the two lifted it and brought it over to where their creations were standing. Lord Tempo allowed a small smile at his creation, who smiled back.

Smokescreen and Prowl barely spared the other a glance.

The crystal was placed down, and the two mechs backed away and returned to their places. Rhythm sought out her mates hand, her face a practiced mask of calm, but the way her fingers grasped his own and the emotions in the bond… it was obvious she was nervous.

{It will be okay}

{I hope so}

The two hands that were tied together twisted to hold onto the other, their free hands coming up to do the same. And then Prowl finally looked at Jazz.

He stalled.

Beautiful was the first word that came to mind, but it didn't feel strong enough. They weren't covered in random splashes of paint like Prowl had initially thought when he'd seen Jazz in the corner of his vision – they were symbols, they were words, they were promises. He didn't know what they meant, but later, when they were alone, when it was just them… he'd ask. Every single one, he'd ask, and he'd learn them.

Jazz noticed that Prowl was staring at him, and nervously adjusted his grip on Prowls hands. Was his paint really that… bad? Worth staring at? It was standard for Polyhexians, it wasn't even as elaborate as it should have been…

But Prowl was staring with wide optics, his jaw relaxing as his bottom lip fell a little-

Jazz allowed a small grin. Prowl liked it. He liked it.

Windblade gave a small cough. Prowl seemed to jerk out of whatever reprieve he had fallen into, and glanced down at the crystal.

Right. Next step.

::You have to jump over this:: He comm'ed Jazz, adjusting his grip to better hold onto Jazz.

::Jump?!::

::On count of three, three, two…::

They both jumped over together, Jazz pulling his legs up higher than he probably should have to make sure he made the jump without nicking his feet on any of the protruding shardlings. Prowl gracefully sailed over and made sure Jazz landed properly, catching him when he stumbled slightly.

The room filled with polite clapping, Windblade tapping the tips of her fingers to her palm as she smiled at the couple. When the noise had died down, she turned the pair around to face the crowd and lifted their joined hands above their heads again.

"I call upon Primus to bear witness that here today, Prowl and Jazz have exchanged promises and are forthwith as one. Welcome them, watch over them, guard, guide, and protect them. Here I present you, Prowl and Jazz, bonded here today in the sight of us all. I bid you welcome them. Hail and welcome Prowl and Jazz."

After the room echoed her, Windblade smiled. "Blessed be."

I hope this makes up for the wait ;A; Let me know what you thought.

Some of this was written way back when I had posted the last chapter - if it seems a little choppy... that's why. Sorry I couldn't get that ironed out!

I based the ceremony on Handfasting! It's basically a Wiccan wedding, although their hands don't remain tied together past the vows.

~Llama