All That Glitters

 

AN:  I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to update.  A lot’s been going on lately, with school and personal life alike.  I’ll try to be more diligent from now on.  My writing is my therapy, and I need to start making time for it again.  Everybody wins that way.

 

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Csi Forsythia:  Oh yes, I’m sure Daxter knows exactly what else he’s raising…

 

Pyro:  Thank you!  I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

 

Kuromei:  If you love something, let it go—and if it comes back, it was meant to be.  Haha, of course Dax couldn’t abandon his best pal.  And I think Jak’s just as befuddled as everyone else about all the mysteries this little bundle of energy is tangled up with.  Hopefully you won’t be too confused for too much longer!

 

Tainted_Emerald:  You take all the time you need to review.  Lord knows I take my time writing it ^_^   But I’m glad you’re liking some of the new techniques I’m trying out.  Creative writing class teaches you stuff, I don’t care what other writers may say.  I will do my best to make this chapter worth the while as well, and not have a(nother) cliffhanger ending! 

 

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Characters: Jak, Daxter, and all their friends (and enemies) belong to Naughty Dog.

 

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     Jak felt every muscle tense.  He backed up before he could catch himself and stand his ground against someone he had to forcefully remember was a friend.  He swallowed hard and tried to make his mouth form words.  “What… are you?”

     Daxter offered him an upside down smile before rolling quickly onto his stomach and beckoning the prince closer again.  “I’m your buddy Daxter.  It’s okay, Jak.”

     Like hell it was!  This was magic unlike any he had ever heard about, let alone seen practically right before his eyes!  People did not simply turn themselves into chatty little animals and back again whenever the fancy struck them.  As much as part of him wanted to, he made no move to approach the bed and its amazingly odd occupant. 

     The redhead’s rather impatient expression melted into fond amusement.  Apparently deducing that Jak wouldn’t be coming to him, he slid easily off the mattress and began to walk slowly up to his wary target.  “Relax, big guy.  Yer my friend.  You know I’d never hurt ya, right?”

     “I’d like to think not.”

     “Well, I wouldn’t.  Even after our little dust up last night.”  He seemed to consider.  “Especially after that.  Yeah, I’d never hurt ya.”

     Jak couldn’t help but notice that, for all the reassurance, Daxter did not try to deny that he may be able, in one way or another, to harm the prince.  Just that he would not do so given the chance.  It was a bit disconcerting—but still, for all that, he was unable to ignore the subtle swagger of Dax’s hips as he came closer.

     “You know, Dax, it would go a long way toward making me comfortable if you’d just tell me what the hell is going on here.  What are you, really?  Where did you come from?  What kind of magic do you have?”

     “Dang, buddy, you sure ask a lot’a questions!”  Laughing lightly, Daxter finally made it close enough to place a hand lightly on Jak’s bare chest.  “Listen.  I can’t tell ya all of what’s going on, not yet.  That’s not my job.  But I can tell ya that you’ll get it soon enough, okay?  That’s the best I can do.  You’ll just have to trust me on the rest.”

     Jak blinked.  “Trust you.”

     “Mm-hmm.  Is that so hard?”  It was almost a purr, the hand boldly skating up to run a finger beneath Jak’s goatee and coax an involuntary shiver.

     “It is when you’re making me think you were completely pretending to be afraid of me last night.  Why the sudden change of heart?” 

     A blush abruptly lit freckled cheeks.  Daxter’s hand dropped from Jak’s face to rub uncomfortably at a thin upper arm.  “Er.  Um.  Well—damn it, Jak, you’d be freaked out too if you were totally at somebody’s mercy and it looked like they were about ta do bad things to ya!  Heck no I wasn’t fakin’ it, jeez!”

     That made just enough sense for the prince to believe it wholeheartedly.  Of course Daxter’s confidence had been given a huge boost between then and now.  Rather than being trapped in an alien form, bereft of his strange powers and unsure of what was about to happen, he was now free of any and all restraints.  At the top of his game.  Or, so Jak assumed.

     “So, you’re saying that if we try this again and something happens that you don’t enjoy, I might wind up all of a sudden making love to a protesting weasel?” Jak laughed a little at the thought.

     “That’s ottsel to you, pretty-boy!  Ottsel, with an ‘ott’!”  The hand was back, a forefinger jabbing pointedly at the middle of Jak’s chest.

     Despite his lingering apprehension, Jak couldn’t help himself.  He reached forward and pulled Daxter firmly against his chest, trapping the redhead’s poking hands between them.  He laughed at the disgruntled look on his friend’s face.  “Haven’t you learned by now that it’s rude to jab at royalty?”

     “Haven’t ya learned by now I don’t give a flip?”

     “Touché.”

     They were both grinning when their lips met.  Jak held on like he would never let go.  And why wouldn’t he, when he had been sure just that morning that we would never see his friend again?  Vaguely, he hoped he hadn’t simply fallen asleep on his bed with his boots on and was just dreaming all this up.  It was definitely strange enough to be a dream.

     Dax certainly felt real enough, though.  His hands tangled in the soft hair at the back of the prince’s neck, almost kneading it is the kiss deepened.  He leaned fully into Jak’s arms, entirely trusting, seeming to enjoy the petting caresses drifting up and down his bare back. 

     Over the redhead’s wild hair and goggles, Jak could see the recently made up bed.  Feeling giddy and devious at the same time, he began to unobtrusively back them toward it.  Daxter had said he wanted to try this again.  Who was he to object to a direct request like that?

     “Huh?”  Daxter stumbled a bit at the first step backward, pulling away to glance down at where his feet were headed, but almost immediately he caught on to Jak’s intentions.  “Oh, I get it.  That’s right, Jak.  Bed.  Good boy!”

     “For someone who doesn’t want to be a pet, you seem awful ready to treat me like one.” 

     Jak bent slightly, got his arms around Daxter just beneath the ribcage, and heaved.  There was a squeal of laughter as they both tumbled across the bed, effectively rumpling the covers back toward their previous state of disarray.  Light wrestling ensued, Daxter pretending to try to squirm away and Jak pulling him easily back into his clutches across the soft blankets.  There was accidental tickling, not-so-accidental groping, and the delivery of countless sloppy kisses.

     The green-blonde was pressing himself between willingly spread legs, hearing Daxter’s coo of approval against his cheek and fumbling for his own belt on a shuddering sigh of anticipation, when a thunderous boom echoed across the palace grounds.  As one, two pairs of eyes riveted on the gently fluttering curtains of the balcony entryway. 

     Jak’s ears shot up in concentration.  “What in the world…?”

     The sound came again, even louder and more insistent.  And this time, right behind it, came an echoing bang against Jak’s door.  The prince was immensely glad he’d had the foresight to lock it when he came in from dinner, when he had been wary of someone waltzing in and possibly catching sight of Daxter in his animal guise wolfing down fruit on his rug.

     “Who’s there?”

     “Get your ass out of bed, Jak!”  Torn’s voice was unmistakable, and unmistakably on edge.  “I need you out on the outer wall and ready to rumble, as soon as you can get there.  We have company.”

     As the commander’s heavy footsteps echoed away down the corridor at a smart military clip, Jak swore.  This was just not his day.  It was as if the universe was conspiring to keep him from the ultimate goal of intimacy with his redhead.  Still firmly his redhead, in Jak’s mind, even though the charmed slave collar was long gone.  He was just possessive that way.

     Untangling himself from Daxter was harder than it should have been with invaders at the gates and possibly ready to mount an assault.  The grumpy pout on a freckled face as he pulled away made it even harder.  Forcing himself up from the warm and cozy indent they had made in the mattress, Jak grabbed for his boots and sword belt, the steel that belonged with the latter having been reclaimed from his attendant after the evening meal.  A prince’s work was never done.

     Still draped across the bed, Daxter sighed, freckled cheek propped on a spread palm.  “These guys sure know how ta ruin a good time.  Think they’d come back in the morning if we asked real nice?”

     “I wouldn’t count on it.”  Jak frowned, cramming a foot back into one clunky, knee-high boot.  The strange booming sound, almost like thunder, rolled through the room once more as he reached for the second.  “What the hell is that noise?  It sounds like it’s coming from the city gate.”

     “It doesn’t sound like explodin’ eco, either.”  The redhead bounced upright, also listening carefully now.

     Jak had to hold back a snort.  Of course it wouldn’t be eco. Yellow and red eco were dangerous enough for one person to handle separately and in very small amounts.  Mixing the two could theoretically cause powerful explosions, but therein lay the problem.  Trying to channel enough of the volatile stuff to attempt an attack on a massive structure like the Spargus gates would likely blow the idiot who tried it clean apart. 

      “Probably not eco, Dax.  If this Erol guy has a brain in his skull he wouldn’t try something that risky.  Not much good marching an army across the wastelands if you’re going to turn around and get them blown up outside the town you’re trying to invade.”

     For a moment Daxter looked confused, head tilting to one side and ears flicking haphazardly.  Then his eyes widened in realization.  “Ooooh.  Yeah, I guess yer right.  Fer a minute there I forgot you guys can’t handle much of the sparkly ooze.”

     You guys.  Humans.  A wave of unsettlement washed over Jak, a cool shiver up his spine as he watched the ottsel-turned-redhead hop nimbly off his bed.  He didn’t know whether or not he wanted to forget that Daxter was vastly different from himself and his entire species, but he didn’t think he would ever be able to.  Not completely. 

     But they could work around that.  If Daxter was able to continue this fluid transition between furry talking animal and Jak’s seemingly human best friend, they could.  He would do everything in his power to make sure of it.

     “What are you doing?”

     Daxter was tossing up the lid of the nearest clothing trunk.  “Stealin’ yer digs, pal.  I’m goin’ with ya an’ I can’t go furless without somethin’ ta wear.”

     Jak stared as Dax slipped easily into a pair of his pants.  They were at least twice too big on his skinny frame, making the smaller boy grope for a belt inside the trunk.  “The hells you are!  You’re going to stay right here in this room until I come back.”

     “Yeah, sure I am.  You just keep tellin’ yerself that, big guy.”  An overlarge tunic was hurriedly shrugged into, leaving wild bonfire hair even wilder as Dax tugged it down over his head.  The garment hung on him comically, as if he were a child playing at trying on his big brother’s clothing.

     “Daxter, I am serious.”  This called for his best princely tone—commanding, dripping authority.  Jak drew himself up to his full height, put his fists on his hips, and stared hard at the little critter-boy who dared oppose him.  “I didn’t take that collar off you and tell you to leave just so you could get found out and put back in chains.  And I definitely didn’t do it so you could follow me onto a battlefield and get killed.”

     “Uh, hello, Reality to Jak!  That was then, this is now.  In case ya forgot, I ain’t so helpless anymore.  I can look out fer myself.  No one’s puttin’ a collar back on me, I can tell ya that straight up.”  The chain of a long cloak was pulled across a delicately pale throat and clipped into place.  Jak watched it with interest.  “I’m not makin’ that mistake twice.”

     Two different sides of Jak’s brain warred.  They were wasting precious time. 

     “You being seen back here is still going to cause more trouble than we can afford right now.  Either stay here and hide, or turn back into a wea—ottsel.  I think I could hide you under my cloak that way.”  If Daxter were that close to him, crouched on his shoulder under his hood, perhaps, it would be much easier to keep him out of danger.

     Barefoot, the redhead turned to face him.  Barefoot he would have to stay; there was no way he was fitting into Jak’s footwear.  He would step right out of them.  “I can’t!  I use up a lot’a energy doin’ that.  It takes me a while ta charge up, I guess you’d say, ‘fore I can turn one or the other.”  Daxter’s ears fell, an almost pained expression flitting across his face.  “If I’d known that sooner, me an’ you never would’a even met.”

     There was a story there begging to be asked for and told, but this was neither the time nor the place.  Jak resolved to hear it someday if it killed him as he quickly put on his goggles and wrapped his headscarf.  Right now, against his better judgment, they had to go.  And it didn’t seem like he was going to be winning this argument.

     “Alright.  Fine.  You can come, this time.  Stay as close beside me as you can.  Odds are there won’t be any real fighting tonight if they can’t break through the gates, and those should hold.  But if anything serious happens, or anyone acts like they recognize you, I want you to get out of there as fast as you can.  At least promise me that.” 

     Damn it.  He was going to have to get used to the fact that Dax was no longer under his sway by any power besides that of affection.  No longer a slave and no real citizen of Spargus, technically the strange redhead didn’t have to listen to a damn thing he said.  Not that he ever really had, come to think of it.

     “You bet, Jakkie-boy.”  Looking happier, Daxter flashed him a very positive hand signal and pulled up the hood on his borrowed cloak.  Like everything else he had purloined it was too big, the fabric drooping down over his face and goggles in an effective disguise.  “Ready when you are.”

 

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     Night chill hung heavy over the city wall as Jak and Daxter hurried along it toward the parapet over the gate.  Behind them, the palace lay dark and still.  Beneath them, the city was preparing for battle.  Excited shouts and the clank of weapons echoed in the clear night.  Jak shivered slightly and pulled his cloak closer, wishing he had thought to make his friend put on some socks, at least.  The stone walk under bare feet must have been downright freezing.

     Dax stuck close, as he had promised.  The haphazard disguise he had concocted seemed to be working well, for the moment.  No one had given the smaller form at the prince’s side a second look in the hustle and bustle atop the walls.  It was more than possible he had been mistaken in the dark for another of the usual attendants, and that was fine by the two of them.  So far, so good.

     “Jak.  Over here.” Torn was stationed on the wall directly over the gate.  On high alert, his tattooed ears stood almost vertical as he gazed out across the desert.  Just over the nearest dunes the glow of firelight lit the night.  The sands burned red and orange, beautiful against all odds.

     By his side, Keira stared in awe at what could have been the glitter and bob of several thousand torches, a hood pushed back from her pretty face.  “There are so many of them…  Looks like Erol lied about how many troops he had, after all.”  She snorted somewhat bitterly, in a most unladylike fashion.

     “Don’t bank too much on what the opposition looks like by night,” Torn advised calmly.  He wasn’t the head of Damas’ military for nothing.  “You may notice they refuse to come any closer than the cover of the dunes.  Odds are they want to hide their numbers for as long as possible.  If a few hundred troops hold a light in each hand, you’ve automatically doubled your strength in the minds of the enemy.  Until morning, anyway, when you’ve had a chance to make camp without the threat of being rushed before you’re ready to meet the challenge.”

     After a long look at the dunes, Jak peered down over the wall.  Cold wind ruffled his hair.  The rough stone of the parapet scraped at his palms.  Noticing what he was up to Daxter immediately followed suit, taking care to stay beside his friend and as far away from Torn as he could.  Down below, a long, dark shape lay motionless before the gates. 

     Jak straightened up, looking to his long-time instructor for validation.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but does that look like a really massive tree trunk down there?”

     A smirk flitted across Torn’s lips.  “They’ve been trying to batter down the gate with it for the past half hour.  Just gave up before you got down here, in fact.”

     “Huh.  Well, it’s a damn shame if they actually carted that heavy thing clean across the wastelands.  I’d like to see ‘em knock down rock and metal gates with a big stick of wood.”

     Jak glanced over his shoulder at the new voice, then had to smile.  “Sig.  Good to see you.”

     “Likewise, chili pepper.”  The big soldier grinned back cheerfully.  “Looks like we’re all here and ready to get this party started, don’t it?”  He leaned against the wall at Torn’s side, battle ax propped against the stone, ever ready for a word of command.  “Now it just depends on whether or not our guests still want to play.”

     There was a sudden swift tug at Jak’s cloak.  “Jak!  Look down there.”

     Following Daxter’s whispered direction, the green-blonde turned his attention down below once more.  Two single lights were moving out of the enemy encampment, steadily drawing nearer to the city walls.  His eyes narrowed.  “Heads up, guys.  Incoming.” 

     Silence spread across the wall like a bolt of thick cloth unrolling.  Speech died to whispers, the clanking of weapons stilled.  Sounds from below petered out as the stillness on the wall top caught on down in the city proper.  The rogue lights came ever nearer, a steady march.  The rest continued to keep their distance.

     Jak prowled nearer to Torn, ears flicking erratically despite his best efforts to keep them still.  This was it.  His first real battle where lines and sides and strategies were clearly defined, not simply fighting tooth and claw for survival on the spur of the moment in a mid-desert attack by roving Marauders.  The prince was as excited as he was nervous.

     “Torn.  Where’s my dad?  If this is some kind of negotiation attempt he’ll want to be here.  We’ll need him here.”

     “He’ll be here soon.  Some last minute orders for the main troops down on the grounds.”  The commander’s back stayed ramrod straight, his ears perfectly still.  A stalwart hound of battle next to Jak’s pacing, largely inexperienced pup.  “Steady, soldier.  You’ll get your chance soon enough.  I’ll consider us lucky if the first skirmish holds off until sunup.” 

     “Right.”

     The thought that a clash of forces could actually be imminent made Jak return immediately to Daxter’s side.  Trying to avoid attention, he leaned marginally closer to his smaller friend. 

     “Dax.”  It was the barest whisper he could muster, out the side of his mouth while he stared straight ahead.  “Remember what I said.  If things heat up, get back to the palace and hide.  Or get out of the city altogether, if you can.  We’re strong, but they do outnumber us.  This might get ugly.” 

     “Don’t wanna leave you.”

     The reply was so soft that Jak honestly wondered if he had heard it at all.  But there was no mistaking it when the redhead moved marginally closer, their arms brushing.  It warmed Jak’s heart indescribably.  Slowly he reached over, under the cover of his cloak, and brushed Daxter’s hand lightly with his own.  After the pause of a heartbeat, careful fingers brushed back.

     “I’m stayin’.  You might need me.”

     At that moment, with his friends at his back and Daxter at his side, Jak felt he could take on the world.  The feeling was sustained as the bearers of the lights came to a halt near the wall, prudently out of range of javelins, arrows, and sling stones, and Jak looked down for the first time into the face of the enemy.

 

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To be continued…

 

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(2^nd)AN:  I suppose I also ought to say something about chapter length.  Yes, this one is shorter than normal.  But it needed to be, really, because this is the best place possible to pause before launching into what happens next.  The next chapter will be of a more normal length.  Thank you for your cooperation. 

 

And now, some outtakes.

 

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Jak: (throws Daxter on the bed) Finally!  It’s about damn time!

 

Torn: (bangs on the door) Jak!  Something incredibly important has happened that needs your urgent attention!

 

Jak: What the hell do you need?!

 

Torn: Your father was playing with his diorama and has lost his Baron Praxis figure. He can’t enjoy a miniature battle without an archrival for his Damas figure to vanquish.  Everyone in the palace is required to come help him find it.

 

Jak: … are you serious?

 

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Torn: (bangs on the door)  Jak! I need your help with something very important!

 

Jak:  What is it now?!

 

Torn: Actually, I forget.  I was hoping you could remind me.  It does seem like there was something important I had to tell you…  Come to think of it, remind me to turn off the stove in my quarters before the fighting starts, would you?  I’d hate to forget and leave it on.  Again. 

 

Daxter: Is this guy for real?

 

Jak:  Unfortunately…

 

Torn: Don’t worry, I’ll think of it!

 

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Torn: (bangs on the door) Jak!

 

Jak:  For the love of Mar, I am busy!  If the palace is not under attack or on fire or infested with Velociraptors, go away!

 

Torn: … does an infestation of mildly threatening sand lizards count?

 

Jak: No!!

 

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Torn: (bangs on door) Jak!

 

Jak: Precursors help you if this is not of deadly importance.

 

Torn: The city is under attack!  I need you out on the walls, now!

 

Jak: … for real this time?

 

Torn: Yes, it’s imperative that you drop everything and come with me!

 

Jak: You swear?  This isn’t something stupid?  You really need me to defend my kingdom from certain doom?

 

Torn: Yes.  Really.

 

Jak:  *sigh*  Okay. I’ll be out in a minute.

 

Sig:  (giggles) When you gonna tell him it’s a false alarm?  When you gonna tell him?

 

Torn: (snickers) Shut up, man, he’ll hear you!  Let’s wait until he gets his pants up.

 

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Jak: (gets out of bed) Sorry, Dax, but our celebratory lovemaking session will have to wait.

 

Daxter: I think somebody’s priorities are a little skewed.

 

Jak: Hey, I don’t like it any more than you do!  Just stay here where it’s safe and wait for me, alright?

 

Daxter: Oh, okay.  I guess I’ll just be up here all alone, then… finding creative ways to entertain myself…  (stretches alluringly across the bed and grabs his favorite pillow)

 

Jak: … that is not even fair.  (cries)

 

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