Because I guess my brain decided the games weren't convoluted enough, what with the long-lost family members and time travel and really weird love tetrahedrons that most people pretend one angle or another never happened.
This did not come out the way I had envisioned it in my head. Pecker is also really bad material to be using when you're trying to write a solemn fic. Like, really really bad. Damnit Pecker.
Major Spoilers for Jak 3. I figured I should let you know.
Family Ties
She saw so much in young Jak, before Praxis and Erol and Veger and their scheming, that rang so similarly to herself.
Reckless, naïve, always jumping into trouble head first without a thought.
She sighed. Those days seemed so far away now. Time and multiple visions had stolen most of her mobility years ago, though she could still summon up great speed and force for short periods of time if needed.
But it wasn't, so she sat on her mat, he mind a million miles away watching a child far away in the past grow up.
It had not been until an older, bitter Jak had walked into her tent one day that she had known where to look. Nearly three years, she had been searching in all the wrong places.
She'd almost given up hope.
She remembered the attack well, and the events preceding it. Onin was almost blind by that point, but not entirely. She still remembered the faces and names and voices. She remembered the betrayal.
It had been a long year. The metal heads were growing in strength, the city just barely holding on- even with their new glimmer of hope, Mar, came with great grief. His mother, Damas' wife, was dead. The king was still grieving when Veger took his child away and Praxis betrayed them, taking over the city.
-
"Onin! There's guards all over the place! We have to leave, now!"
-But Damas and Mar…- She signed to him in hurried, jerky motions. She could not leave them behind.
"They're taking the air cab to the outskirts were they'll hopefully be safe. We're goin' out by one of the passages by the bazaar. I've scouted a ways ahead, and it looks clear so far, but we have to go now."
-Alright Pecker, lead the way.- She complied reluctantly. It still worried her, to be apart from them, but if there was a plan, then maybe there was a hope they would get away safely.
She could only hope her son and grandson would be safe.
-
Onin had fled, taking Pecker, her familiar of nearly 23 years with her.
-
"The old king is dead. I, Baron Praxis, will lead you now to victory against the metal head scum!"
Hiding in a tent, an old, blind woman hung her head in sorrow, comforted only by the presence of her smaller companion.
-
She assumed Damas was gone, and could not find little Mar no matter where she looked- both physically and with her minds eye. She could find no time to grieve, always hiding from Krimzon Guard patrols. Always on watch. She was too noticeable, an old, blind, mute woman that could channel eco accompanied by a talking monkaw? She would be spotted far too quickly.
And then there was Jak.
She wished she could have stopped all the awful things that had been done to him, but fate whispered in her ear, and told her to leave it be. Fate was cruel mistress, but one who knew best. Onin let it be.
It was her own decision not to tell Jak who she was to him after he had defeated Praxis. It was simply not in her nature, and it didn't seem important for him to know. She knew. That was all that mattered. Perhaps it seemed selfish of her, but she could not give Jak what he wanted, not in life, and definitely not in a family.
-
"Are you sure, Onin?"
-I am. I am not what he needs, my telling him would only cause him more confusion, more longing. I can't give him his family any more.-
"Only if you're sure."
-
When Jak was exiled to the wasteland, she feared him for lost. Pecker volunteered to follow him for her, despite it being a near death sentence. The only reason she let him go was the reassurance in the back of her mind that he would return.
There were many similarities between Pecker and Jak's familiar, Daxter. Both were loudmouthed, rude, cowardly in the face of danger, but unbendingly loyal when the need came. She could not ask for a better friend.
-
"Pecker?" Damas' surprised visage hung over him.
"Boy are you ever a sight to wake up to. That was not a compliment." The monkaw rubbed his head, squinting slightly. It ached terribly.
"But you're.. How did you- I thought you were dead."
"Funny, so did we, for you at least. How did you get away from the Baron, anyways?"
"That's not important, what about-"
"Onin?" Pecker asked, anticipating the question. "Fresh as a daisy. Well, a really old, withered daisy, but you get the idea." He squawked, his wits finally coming about him. "I've got to tell Onin! She's going to be so excited to find out-"
Damas grabbed the monkaw by the tail, halting the bird half way out a window.
"We're in the middle of the desert. You won't get far."
"But Onin-" Pecker wilted visibly. He was not unused to being apart from Onin from time to time, but to be forced to stay apart? It seemed nigh unthinkable.
"We'll find a way back, but for now you will have to pose as my advisor."
"Why?"
"Because otherwise you'll have to fight through the arena, and I know you better than that. Especially since I know you won't be staying long."
-
She found out that Damas was not dead, and she cursed all that time she had not spent searching for him, for her own son, assuming he was lost to her forever.
For a moment, she wanted nothing more then to be with them again, to be a whole, single family unit again. She would never see Damas, eyes or otherwise, she already knew, but that did not stop her wish.
-
"Jak is your son."
Damas looked up at the bird in palpable shock. What was he talking about? Pecker coughed nervously.
"Onin just spoke to me. Wanted to let you know."
"B.. But how? He is far too old." It was not kingly to stutter, but he was in closed quarters with no witnesses and an old family friend. It was also highly unbelievable news. Pecker shrugged.
"I dunno. There was a whole bunch of crazy stuff with the metal heads and time travel. I don't really understand it myself, but he really is your son."
Damas suddenly felt the need to sit down.
"Onin also says you can't tell him." For once, the monkaw seemed genuinely regretful of the news he was giving. "You can drop hints, let him figure it out for himself, but you can't just tell him. Onin says it's got to do with fate or the fabric of the universe or something. I dunno." It went unsaid that Jak himself was bitter, distrustful, and still unstable from his two years in prison. Things like these needed to be taken with great care.
Damas put his head in his hands.
"How do I know? Is there any way to prove this as truth?"
"Well-"
-
She watched then, watched the gritty, aging man who had come to rule a city of outcasts.
Watched as he rescued Jak from the Dark Maker machinations.
Watched as he died, this time without a doubt.
-
"Find… Mar. find my son." I know he's still there in you.
-
"Onin?"
-I'm all right Pecker. It has been a long day.-
"You're telling me."
