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All That Glitters	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 7252 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak and Daxter). I make no money from writing this.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
AN: We have action, peeps! Whoo! I’m likin’ this action. We also have more sexy-times. So for all of you who read just for that, we’re in your ballpark, too. Onward!

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Chibichibi: Thanks very much! Please don’t hurt yourself falling out of your chair, tho!

Meh: Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying. There are plans for more, definitely.

Csi Forsythe: Hark, for thy chapter is nigh. *angelic music from on high* You may cease camping out, now.

Tainted_Emerald: The plot’s driving me nuts. For reals. But soon it will co-exist peacefully with some nice lovin’s, I promise.

Kuromei: Cliffhangers keep everyone enthralled and coming back for more ottsel-ish goodness! And yeah, Daxter’s a cute little enigma. Jak shall just have to keep guessing for a while longer before the whole story is divulged.

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Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc. But one day, when I rule the world…

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     “Might someone up there go by the name of Jak?”
     The oily-smooth voice sent a shiver up the prince’s spine. He stepped closer to the raised edge of the wall, however, into the ring of light thrown by torches wedged between the rough stone blocks. Clearing his throat, he called down firmly. “I’m Jak. Who goes there?”
     “Careful, soldier.” Torn also stepped nearer, warily eyeing the intruders below. “Be ready. You never know what they could be planning.”
     “Ah, good evening, Jak. My apologies for causing such an uproar at this hour, but I’ve heard so much about you that I simply couldn’t wait to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Erol.”
     Praxis’ general smiled like a snake, Jak decided. Even from such a distance, he could discern that much. The smirk was accented by dark facial tattoos, not unlike Torn’s, and a somehow sinister metal mask was pushed up high atop his head. It gleamed in the torchlight like a naked skull in an open grave. Beside the general a second, more diminutive, figure stood, hooded and cloaked. It remained silent, passive, still. Watching and listening. Waiting.
     Beside Jak, Daxter shivered slightly. The prince tried not to jump—he hadn’t realized he had been followed. Frowning, he tugged the redhead discretely behind him once more, out of the enemy’s line of sight.
     “Erol, you should be aware that bringing an army to these gates is an open declaration of war on the kingdom of Spargus. Leave now and we will consider this trespass forgiven in full.”
     There was a low chuckle, perfectly audible on the silent breeze. “Leave? But we’ve just arrived. Where would be the fun in that?”
     “Nothing is easy,” Sig muttered resignedly from somewhere behind and to the right. “Wish he’d just get to the damn point.”
     “State your purpose, then.” This man was rubbing Jak the wrong way, and not just because he presumed to stage a hostile takeover of the patch of sand the lineage of Mar now called home. “Leave, or it’s war. We won’t surrender, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”
     “Of course not. Presuming you would surrender would be most rude of me. But I am also forced to assume that you have some idea of the danger you’re in. The chances of a victory on your part are slim to none.” Erol’s voice took on a flattering tone. “Nevertheless, a kingdom of such efficient warriors deserves the utmost respect. Spargus’ reputation has spread far and wide. Your reputation in particular, Jak. It would be a true shame for such a proud nation to be crushed into the dust of oblivion simply because it was vastly outmanned in battle. And surrender, the only other easily apparent option, would be most undignified. A real pity, that.”
     “I don’t think I quite understand what you’re getting at, then. If you don’t want to destroy us, and you don’t expect us to surrender, why are you here?”
     Daxter snorted quietly, peeking around the edge of Jak’s cloak. “I’m guessin’ it’s not because they wanna borrow a cup of sugar. Just a thought.”
     “Will you get back?!” Jak hissed, trying hard not to spare too much of his attention on his friend. He was dealing with a serious political situation, here! But there was no denying that if the redhead wouldn’t just be still and silent, blending into the background and behaving like one of the regular attendants, then there was no way he wasn’t going to get found out. Sig at least was already looking at him strangely. This wasn’t the time or the place.
     Erol hadn’t seemed to notice the disturbance on the wall top. He continued smoothly. “You speak your mind, Jak. I admire that. No beating around the bush. You’re a credit to your kingdom”
     The two on the sand were slowly drifting closer to the wall. The cloaked figure seemed less comfortable with that. They hung back behind Erol, almost wavering. Jak wondered who they were, and what their purpose could be. Surely a general wouldn’t bring random lackeys to the front to converse with the opposition. They had to be someone of import in Praxis’ sphere.
     “I suppose it would be only proper for me to speak my mind, as well,” Erol called confidently. “We have a proposition for you, Jak, Baron Praxis and I. It would be to your benefit to consider it.”
     The prince looked automatically to Torn. “Your opinion?”
     Torn frowned, moodily intent on the torch-lit presence of the camped forces beyond the dunes. Dim, flickering light played across his chiseled face, mingling strange shadows with the familiar tattoos Jak had seen nearly every day of his life. “Proceed with caution. There’s no harm in hearing what he’s got to say. But commit to nothing, and don’t put absolute trust in anything he says. That army is there for a reason. He’s not here to make friends.”
     “Right.” Jak nodded, then turned back to business. He really was thankful for Torn and the older man’s expertise, his calmness in the face of impending strife. “We’re listening, Erol. But no promises.”
     “Fair enough.” The tone was pleased, smooth as silk. Amiable, even. “However, I don’t believe this mode of conversation is comfortable for either one of us. Yelling from the battlements is unnecessary, wouldn’t you agree? It would be more practical to meet face to face, like civilized human beings.”
     “You’re not getting back in here,” Jak called flatly. How dumb did this guy think he was? The fox had already been in the chicken coop once. He wasn’t going to open the door and politely invite it back in.
     “I understand your caution wholeheartedly. And I, at least, am perfectly willing to host a discussion in my temporary quarters.” Erol gestured back toward the camp, where a commanders’ tent would surely have been set up for him. “Or even right here before your gates, if mingling with my friends unsettles you. It’s up to you, Jak.”
     “Give us a minute.” Stepping back from the wall, Jak turned to Torn, Sig, and Keira. Daxter was a warm, reassuring presence pressed unobtrusively at his side. “Okay, guys. What’s our battle plan?”
     Torn’s frown seemed etched in stone. “I don’t like it. There’s too much opportunity for them to try something. And I can’t understand why Erol is so intent on parlaying with you, Jak, and not your father. Surely he knows that Damas is the king of Spargus. Why waste time talking with underlings? I can’t believe he wouldn’t go straight to the top of the chain of command if he had a mind to.”
     “Yeah, that is weird. And he said he had a proposition for you. You, specifically. I wonder what it is.” Keira’s pretty head cocked curiously.
     “I don’t know,” Jak answered slowly. “But whatever it is, I feel like I need to at least consider it. He’s right—at best guess, we’re outnumbered. Think about what happens if we actually meet them in battle. Victory of any kind is a long shot. And if we just sit here and accept a siege, we could only hold out for so long, anyway.” The prince’s hand closed determinedly on the hilt of his sword. “I’ll go down and talk to him.”
     Torn shook his head negatively. “Jak, I—”

     “It could avert a war, Commander. I’ll go.”
     “Not by yerself!” Daxter burst out next to him. “Yer insane if ya think walkin’ out there without backup’s a good idea! Uh… yer highness.”
     Jak fought the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in despair as all eyes suddenly focused on his loudmouthed friend. Not that he wasn’t pleased that Dax was looking out for his wellbeing, but the redhead obviously had no idea what the terms “subtlety” or “incognito” meant. Jak could only hope that the darkness, the hood, and the fact that no one had ever heard Daxter speak out loud before would be enough to keep his identity unknown.
     “Your page has a point,” Torn said finally, eyes still settled suspiciously on the sheepish figure hovering at Jak’s side. “Meeting the enemy alone is suicide. If you insist on doing this you’re going to take some of the soldiers with you.”
     “Fine.” Jak nodded, and stepped back to the battlements. Keira and Daxter trailed along on opposite sides. The green-blonde tensed, ever at the ready to grab one or both of his companions and sling them for cover in the event of treacherous missiles from the darkness below. “Erol!”
   “Here and awaiting your word.”
     “I accept your proposed meeting to discuss… whatever it is you want to discuss. But the gates, when they open, will be heavily guarded. An ambush would be highly unwise. Also, I’ll have troops in my attendance. If you try to double cross us, we’ll be ready. And you will be sorry.” Jak let the threat hang. No empty boasting there. Cocky but ultimately foolish Marauders and countless ill-tempered metal heads alike could attest to the ferocity of Spargian soldiers on the best of days, let alone when they were caught in a pinch.
     Keira chose that moment to lean over the edge for a better look. Her blue eyes and hair gleamed, the goggles around her neck glinted like stars in the torchlight. Jak automatically reached out to gently grasp the corner of her cloak, the rough material scratching between his fingers, and then felt silly for it. Keira was a big girl. She wasn’t going to fall off the wall, or something.
     It took a moment for Erol to respond. He stood silently, eyes trained fixedly on Keira. Recognition dawned, and a smirk of what could almost have been grudging admiration flitted across his face. “Of course. I’ll see you down here in a few minutes, then. And, by all means… do bring company.”

- // - // - // - // -

     Daxter scampered down the steps barely a stride behind Jak as they descended to the street below the wall. “Jak! Hey, slow down!”
     As they were alone, the green-blonde didn’t make any move to shut his friend up. Torn and Sig had taken an alternate route from the wall top, hoping to meet Damas and Samos to deliver an emergency update on what had just transpired. It was likely that Torn would also be rushing to collect a suitable group of soldiers to accompany Jak on his little outing.
     Troops were already in formation near the gates, at the ready in the not altogether unlikely event of a surprise attack. The city was still painfully quiet, young children and the few non-military citizens locked safely in their homes until the immediate threat passed. Somewhere a guard crocadog barked gruffly. Overhead, a million stars shone brightly in the blackness of the desert sky.
     Jak slowed the slightest bit, allowing Daxter to match his pace. “We are trying to hurry a little bit, here. This is kind of important.”
     “I know! That’s why I’m comin’ with ya.”
     “No, Dax.”
     “What do ya mean, ‘no’? Sure I am! I can help!” Daxter pulled back his hood to glare up at Jak defiantly. The Pout was firmly in place.
     The prince sighed patiently. “The best way you can help me right now is to stay here where I know you’ll be safe. That guy could be planning an ambush, for all we know. The troops will have all their attention on protecting my back, and all my attention will be on Erol. If something happens you’d have to fight on your own. You don’t want that, do you?”
     “I can think of about a million things more fun ta do than that—like peelin’ potatoes and washin’ socks. But I’ll do it if I have to, don’t even think I won’t!”
     Jak stared down at the scrawny redhead so bent on opposing him, well aware that no other living creature even minutely below him in social standing had ever given him this much lip. Daxter stared right back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed decisively as he scowled. It was the cutest thing Jak had ever seen.
     “Come here.”
     Daxter yelped as he was suddenly grasped by one thin wrist and pulled quickly into the shadowed alley they had been passing. “Hey! What the—?!”
     Jak’s hand fell across his mouth; just firmly enough to stifle the flow of loud exclamations he was sure would have been otherwise forthcoming. He still wasn’t quite used to these vocal outbursts from his formerly silent friend, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. The green-blonde paused, cloak still swirling around his ankles, listening intently. Someone could have seen them duck in.
     Dax finally went quiet when his back pressed against the cold stone side of a building. His ears flicked erratically, equally wild eyes seeking out Jak’s own in the dark, dusty, narrow space. Smaller hands flew up to clutch at the large one Jak still had placed over his mouth.
     “Shh.” Finally satisfied with the quiet of the street without, Jak pulled back the restrictive hand and bent to nuzzle reassuringly at a spot just beneath the redhead’s ear. “Sorry. I just didn’t want anybody to run by and see you.”
     “Oh, yeah, right! Like the odds of that are just phenomenal!”
     Jak could literally feel the tension draining out of Daxter’s body as he pressed them closer. Maybe pulling the little guy into a dark corner and covering his mouth hadn’t been the most suave thing he had ever done. But, hey, even if Dax had been momentarily spooked, he seemed to be alright now. Jak smiled innocently and nuzzled a little more pointedly. “Better safe than sorry.”
     “I’m still goin’ with you.”
     “Really.” Jak’s hands snuck down to cup a tight rear through baggy pants and pull them flush together.
     Dax gulped audibly against his ear. “Y-yeah. Really.”
     “You’re sure about that?” The words were breathed against a pale neck, a soft lick from earlobe to shirt collar following close in its wake.
     Daxter whimpered.
     “Wouldn’t you rather just stay here and wait for me?” Jak could be quite persuasive when he needed to be. Keeping one hand at the redhead’s hip to hold him in place, he let the other wander up over a supple back to tangle in that pretty hair. “It won’t take long. Any extensive parleying will wait for morning, if I have anything to say about it. I’ll be right back. And then we can get to more… interesting things.”
     “What if—” Daxter’s voice was high and breathy, the distraction obviously doing its job. He squirmed against the prince and hummed rather dazedly as Jak shifted them again for better friction down below. “What if somethin’ goes wrong? Tattooed W-wonder said not ta trust that Erol guy. They might be tryin’ ta take ya hostage, or somethin’.”
     Tattooed Wonder? It took a moment for Jak to realize Dax was talking about Torn, and had to laugh quietly around the soft patch of skin he was kissing. He made a mental note to ask Daxter later what other colorful nicknames he had for the people in their lives that he had never been able to share. “Don’t worry about it, Dax. I can take care of myself. Besides, I’ll have a whole mess of backup with me. Erol’s all mine, and the guards won’t let anything interfere with our chat.”
     “But—”
     Lips on lips turned out to be a fantastic tool for silencing babbled protests. Jak let himself linger at it for a long moment, pecking softly amid his friend’s small noises of pleasure as all objections momentarily flew away. Hands closed over his upper arms when Daxter went up on tiptoe to better return the kisses. Though he knew he shouldn’t, Jak couldn’t resist easing a leg between the redhead’s own. Just a few… more… seconds of heady contact.
     They broke apart, breathless, as a shrill whistle from the direction of the gates rent the stillness of the night. Jak acted fast, planting one more kiss on startled lips. “We’ll meet up in my room tomorrow. You can hide there until I get back. Be careful, and don’t get caught.”
     “Hey!” Daxter sputtered indignantly, still a little dazed, as Jak quickly pulled away and slipped out of the alley, a nearly silent shadow on the breeze.
     The green-blonde didn’t dare look back as he broke into a sprint. Daxter could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to follow him into what had the real potential of becoming a life threatening situation. Jak need not have worried, however. There was no patter of bare feet on the sandy stones, bent on catching him up. All he heard instead was a frustrated but resigned yell echoing after him down the empty street, and the prince grinned as he ran at the thought of the flushed face and mussed red hair that had to go along with it.
     “Fine then, be that way! You just better come back in one piece, ya hear, ‘cuz when ya do I’m gonna sex ya stupid!”

- // - // - // - // -

     A dozen soldiers had volunteered to accompany the prince outside the walls. Despite the show of strength and support they provided, though, Torn was still uneasy. He was the one pacing now as the gates were unbarred from within.
     “I’d go with you if I could, Jak,” he began.
     “I know.” Jak raised a hand, effectively curtailing the commander’s speech. “You’re needed here. We can’t both be spared on a risky maneuver like this at the same time.”
     “Right. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Your safety has always been my greatest responsibility. Sending you out there alone isn’t something I’m comfortable—”
     “I won’t be alone. And I’ll be fine.” Jak had to smile. Between Dax and Torn both worrying over him like this, he should feel insulted. He was next in line for the throne of Spargus, not a wayward toddler. But, then again, it was nice to know they cared. Torn in particular, who had never exactly been the affectionate type—even when Jak actually had been a toddler, sitting on his shoulders and gripping his ears and dreadlocks alternately like reigns. “I’ll be back before you know it. Look on the bright side. We might be stopping a war in its tracks.”
     “That’s the spirit, chili pepper. I know you’ll do us proud.” Sig patted him heartily on the back—perhaps a tad too heartily. The big soldier had been keen on being one in the number of Jak’s accompaniment, but Torn had vetoed the request almost at once. Sig’s experience in battle rendered him much more valuable than the capable but less than extraordinary troops that had been first to volunteer. He would be needed closer to home.
     One of said troops, a female guard with long brown plaits, hoisted her shield. “Are you ready, Your Highness?”
     “Yeah. Let’s move out. Announce to the ones outside that we’re coming.”
     With one last glance over his shoulder at the dark, silent structure of the palace, Jak turned toward the slowly opening gates. He hoped Daxter had made it back there by now, using that animal grace and guile of his to sneak up to the royal suites undetected by the remaining staff still on duty. Jak also wondered where his father could be. He hadn’t seen the man for hours—since he had made that hasty exit from dinner to be with Daxter, in fact.
     The gates slowly creaked open on their iron hinges, just wide enough for two to walk through the gap shoulder to shoulder. Jak led the way out, one of the bigger men of his guard close at his side.
     A gust of cold wind hit the prince broadside as soon as he stepped beyond the shelter of the wall, pasting his cloak to one side of his body and whipping the ends of his headscarf like pennants. Across the blown sands, Erol and his own attendant waited. No sense in beating around the bush. Jak strode confidently forward. It was the work of but a minute to cross the open land that lay between them.
     The opposing commander smiled, cat-like, as the advancing party came to a stop before him. “Ah, Jak. How wonderful to meet you face to face at last.”
     “Erol.” Wonderful or not, Jak remembered his manners and extended a hand. It was not immediately crushed in a grip of steel meant to intimidate, as he had fully expected. Rather, the hand that wrapped around his own was polite and firm. And the contact went on a little too long, Jak couldn’t help but think. He had plenty of time to study Erol’s face, to take in that the man, like so many, had blue eyes, and note that he was a redhead, too—not the vibrant, blended hues Daxter was blessed with, but a more uniform orange. Finally he pulled his hand from the other’s grip. “I think there was something you wanted to discuss?”
     “Of course, dear prince. Do forgive me.” That smile again. Like a cat in the cream. “I always get a bit carried away when I’m meeting promising new recruits.”
     Jak’s guard was up as instantly. “Recruits.”
     “Oh, yes. You see, Jak, Baron Praxis might still be a bit skeptical… but I, on the other hand, am fully confident in your abilities as a bright new talent in my officer core. Among other things.”
     It was all Jak could do not to laugh in the man’s face. “You wanted to talk about me joining your army. Me. The prince of the city you’re trying to destroy.”
     “Not just you, of course, dear boy. Your kingdom as a whole would be a valuable ally to the Baron.”
     “I already told you that Spargus is not going to surrender!”
     “No. But don’t think of it as surrender, Jak. Think of it as… joining forces. Your kingdom will retain all the autonomy it has now—with the small exception of lending soldiers when the Baron requires them. You keep your city, you keep your freedom, and you keep your lives. Quite the smart battle plan, hmm?”
     Jak gritted his teeth. “I’m confident that I’m speaking on behalf of King Damas and every other citizen of this city when I say that Spargus is not interested in being on Praxis’ leash. And I, specifically, am in no way interested in being on your leash.” It bothered the green-blonde immensely that, despite his vehement refusal of the offer, the other man’s smile never wavered. The smaller figure under the cloak never moved or said a word. “I think it’s safe to say we’re not going to agree on anything tonight.”
     “More’s the pity. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
     “You know the answer to that.” Jak nodded curtly, the only courtesy he was willing to extend at that point. “Let’s go, troops. We’re through here.” Without taking his eyes off Erol the prince began to step carefully backwards. Never turn your back on the enemy until firmly covered by your guard.   Just as he had been taught. All was well.
     All was well, until he took another step back towards the protection of his troops and suddenly felt the unmistakable pressure of a blade in the small of his back.
     “Sorry, Your Highness. You’re not going anywhere.”

- // - // - // - // -

     Daxter had not gone back to the palace as directed. Instead, keeping to the dark places, he had quietly and steadily made his way as close to the city gates as he could without being seen. He loitered in another alley barely a stone’s throw from the wall, shrouded in cloak and shadow, and listened.
     Just a few minutes. Just one confirmation from the watchers on the wall that Jak was okay, and he would turn around and go straight to the palace like the obedient little pal he usually was not. Just one.
     It was a confirmation he wouldn’t get.
     “Look, they’re moving back toward the enemy camp.”
     “That doesn’t make sense. Why are our men going, too?”
     “I don’t know. Kinda looks like… oh, shit! Commander Torn!”
     Within seconds, the guards’ worst suspicions were confirmed. Down on the ground, so were Daxter’s. The redhead’s ears fell slowly as real pandemonium among the Spargian army set in. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, not so unlike the feeling of being dragged chained and helpless toward an unknown fate. Jak had been taken hostage.
     “Damn it! I knew it! Jak, you stubborn idiot, would it have killed ya ta listen ta me fer once?!”
     Completely forgetting to pull up his hood, Daxter unthinkingly darted out of the alley toward the gates. He ran, almost literally, smack into Damas and Samos.

- // - // - // - // -

To be continued…

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
(2^nd)AN: Well, there you have it. Suspense, intrigue, and all that other happy stuff.                                    And it’s a well known fact. No one ever listens to the redhead.

Outtakes.

- - - - -

Keira: (leans over the wall)

Jak: (reaches for her cloak, then pulls back) Nah, she’s fine. She won’t fall or anyth—

Keira: *slip!* Aaaiiieee!! (plummets)

Jak: Oh, shit. (facepalm) Not my fault!

- - - - -

Jak: (kisses Dax and runs out of the alley) Ha! He’s distracted and not following me! I’m so clever.

Daxter: Ha! He’s running into a delicate diplomatic situation with a tent in his pants! He’s so dumb.

- - - - -

Erol: (stares and smiles)

Jak: …

Erol: (stares and smiles)

Jak: …

Erol: (stares and smiles)

Jak: Dammit, would you quit raping me with your eyes?! And let go of my hand!!

- - - - -

Random Guard #1: Commander Torn! The prince has been taken captive!

Torn: Oh, no! Not Jak! He’s like a son to me! And besides all that, Damas is going to kick my ass like whoa.

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- 6
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- 8
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All That Glitters