A.N. Greetings, this fan-fiction is written as a sequel to both the Jak 2 game and my fan-fiction of the original Jak and Daxter game "Confessions by Candlelight". If you wish you may go and read that before you begin this however it will make sense without it. This is set after the game has finished and will contain spoilers so I suggest that you finish the game before reading this. Otherwise please enjoy my writing.

The Visionary

Stolen Peace

Jak awoke slowly, his eyelids inching open as he let his body absorb the pleasant feelings of eiderdown beneath him and the warmth of her body lying naked against his. He shifted, the arm around her shoulders pulling her closer as he traced the curve of her hip with his free hand, looking down at her as she stirred in her sleep, soft lips mumbling something in her dreams as her head shifted on the warm pillow of his chest. His hand came up to brush a strand of green hair away from her heart-shaped face, her heartbeat a steady, soothing rhythm felt through the softness of her breast as he let his hands stay upon her face, his fingers gently exploring the feel of her smooth features.

The memories of last night filled his mind, as he cupped her cheek, thanking God that the rift the Baron had created between them had been healed, that she had accepted him into her arms once more. They had been lovers in Sandover, his fight against Gol and the part she had played in his recovery enough to take them past friendship. Since fate had torn them apart he had not known peace, the dark eco inside him ruling him, fuelling his hatred, his anger.

Last night, for the first time in over two years he had found that peace, the burning flames in his soul snuffed out by the panacea of her mere presence, her slim arm about his waist an anchor in the storm of what had been done to him. He had cried after she fell asleep in his arms, let tears fall for the first time in two years, tears of pain, of sorrow, of love, of joy, pent-up emotion finally finding an outlet as her love healed the wounds inside him. Now he simply held her, trying to re-memorise everything about her, stretch out each moment with her in his arms as long as he could. The few hours he had spent sleeping had been drawn from him by exhaustion, not from the act of making love to her but from the physical and mental strain he had borne alone for so long.

He held her closer for a moment, leaning over to plant a kiss on her smooth forehead. She stirred as his lips touched her, her hands running over his chest as she awoke, the familiar sight of his muscled torso as she awakened a missed and longed for feeling. He leaned back and their eyes met, the emerald green of her large exotic eyes bright and enchanting despite the fact she was still half-asleep. A lazy smile curved her lips as one of his powerful hands gently stroked her hair, smoothing it after their night of passion. She laid her head back onto his chest, arms circling his waist as she closed her eyes again, whispering a prayer of thanks that he was still there.

'I was so scared it was a dream.' She spoke quietly, arms tightening around him for an instant. 'I didn't want to wake up in case you weren't here. In case it had all been a dream and I was still stuck in this terrible place all alone.' Emotion choked her voice as she finished, telling Jak that he was not the only one who had suffered since their exodus from Sandover. He soothed her quietly, cupping her cheek as his thumb traced her cheek, wiping away the beginnings of a tear.

'Keira, I came too close to loosing you. I'm never leaving you. Not ever again.' She smiled at his voice, at the softness of his face. It had been so long since she'd seen him without that anger there in his eyes. When she looked at him now he was just her Jak again, none of the darkness within him showing as he stared down at her. She pulled him closer.

'I don't want you to Jak. You and daddy are all I have here. When I thought that you… that what they'd done to you had meant you didn't love me anymore. I… I cried myself to sleep every night.' He silenced her with a kiss, pulling her small frame up easily as he tilted her head and claimed her lips, slowly massaging them with his own as his knuckles gently stroked the side of her face. He let her go, her breath coming in short pants as his eyes burned with emotion. That inner strength and intensity that he had always borne showed in his gaze as he looked down at her, taking her in, possessing her in that wonderful way she knew meant he would never let her go.

She slid her small frame against his and kissed his neck as her arms circled him, the need to feel him beside her rushing up through her, a mixture of emotional and physical need filling both as he embraced her fiercely. As teenagers they had been tentative in their relationship, not precisely afraid of embracing all aspects of their love but perhaps a little reluctant. The years apart had taught them to embrace all the wants that their love for each other brought, the physical desire that they had for each other something that they had embraced now that it was once again given an outlet.

It was a sign to both of them how much they had grown in the two and a half years that they had been apart. To them the fact that they loved each other more now than they had before was the only proof they needed that they were destined for each other. She snuggled into the feeling of his arms around her, the muscles along his tall, athletic frame a warm blanket of soft steel. Her bed had been empty of him for too long.

Outside her window the city was coming to life as the citizens awoke, the sounds kept out by the thick walls and windows of her spacious apartment above her garage. They had come here after the celebrations, the shared need to regain what they had once thought lost pulling them together. The night had been spent together, sating not only their physical need for each other but also the emotional urgency to re-establish their link, to know that things could be as wonderful as they had once been. She turned in his arms, watching the sun through the window as she analysed the feeling of his body against her, pulling an arm with her so that she could still feel him all around her. He rose with her, pulling her to his chest as she sat on his lap, arms around her waist.

'What happens now Jak?' She sighed as she asked, the fear of what the future could hold plain in her voice.

He smiled, 'Well I doubt we'll have trouble staying in the city. I made a few friends in high places.' The words brought a smile to her lips as she thought of Torn and Ashelin, she the Governor of Haven City and he the new commander of the Krimson Guard. 'Besides, there's no one that can beat me on the track. If we need money or anything I can race for your garage.'

Her smile grew teasing as she turned, straddling his hips as she embraced him and lay her head on his shoulder. 'Somehow I can't picture that. Jak.'

He raised an eyebrow, running his fingers through her hair, 'Why not?'

She giggled, rubbing her nose against his. 'Because you're made to do great things, not race around a track for the rest of your life.' He smiled but before he could answer his eyes snapped up, the softness on his features evaporating as he suddenly seemed to radiate danger. She remained silent as he stood in one smooth motion, laying her gently aside as he rose. An instant later he had pulled on his pants and his hand had settled on the holster for his rifle, the worn but sturdy leather strapped across the back of his wide belt.

He cocked his head, long ears twitching this way and that as he tried to catch sounds filtered through the soundproofing of her window. She tried to speak but he held up his hand to silence her, standing as he pulled on his belt, buckling it quickly as he flicked the safety off on his rifle.

'What is it?' She finally asked, both scared and assured by the sudden transformation that had taken place in him, not quite as startling as his transformation into his dark alter-ego but enough to remind her of the power inside her lover.

'Krimson Guard.' He spoke grimly.

'So? They're taking orders from Torn now. Why do we have to worry about a patrol?'

He shook his head, 'This is more than a patrol, about fifty men coming down the street. They're heading straight here with maybe three carriers. I can hear them. There's been a lot of tension in the palace, a lot of people don't like Ashelin being in charge. If someone tried to take the throne from her I'd be the first one they came after.'

She pulled the blanket up around her bare chest, fright rising in her voice. 'You? But why?'

His eyes met hers and the burning gaze at once frightened and calmed her, the protective danger there putting the truth to his words. 'Because I'm the most dangerous opponent they'd have.' He moved to her side, cupping her cheek gently. 'Don't worry. They're no threat to me, I'll go find out what they want.' He turned and strode away, his words running through her mind. Fifty of them, and they were no threat. If she had not known that he would rather die than hurt her it would have terrified her, as it was it made her feel safer than ever before.

She rose and began to dress, listening to the sounds coming from below, waiting with baited breath for the sounds of combat to erupt. They never came, the sound of footsteps on the stairs rising as she pulled a loose white blouse on, her baggy blue trousers cool in the summer heat. Pulling her hair back she slid her hair-band into place, Jak greeting her eyes as the door opened. He seemed oddly dazed, staring at her blankly for a moment as he stood in the doorway.

She turned, her previous concern rising, 'Jak… what is it? What's wrong?'

He took a shaky step forward, gripping the foot of their bed for support as he swayed. He looked up and met her eyes once more, a rare look of bewilderment and disbelief upon his face. 'Keira,' he said slowly, 'Keira, I'm the King of Haven City.'

Her eyes widened, her hairbrush clattering to the floor as her mouth worked soundlessly, her lips eventually managing to form a quiet, 'Wha?'

Jak sat down on the bed, running his fingers through his spiky hair. 'It's Torn at the door. He just told me that… the reason that no one wants Ashelin in power… is cause they want the old king's son on the throne.' He fingered the amulet at his waist, its thong threaded onto his belt. 'They want me.'

She blinked, watching him silently for a moment. 'Oh.'

He gave her a small smile, 'Yeah, that's about what I said.' He sighed, 'The ministers want me to come to the palace immediately, for my coronation.'

She looked away from him, staring down at the slim boots on her feet as a hundred reasons this could drive a new barrier between them ran through her mind. 'Um… so… so what're you going to do?'

He frowned, 'I'm turning them down.' He looked up at her, her surprise plain on her face. 'I don't know anything about being a king. What use would I be? What do they expect me to be able to do?' His hand curled into a fist by his side, the unexpected twist bringing out his anger. As he met her eyes he sighed, unclenching his fist as her presence cooled his temper. 'What the heck am I going to do in the palace? I've not even slept in a proper bed for over two years.' He remembered the soft mattress beneath him and gave an embarrassed smile. 'Well, uh, except for last night.' She smiled and moved to him, cradling his head against her chest as she lay her cheek against the green tinge that striped his hair. His arms came up and circled her waist as he held her slim body closer, remembering the heat of her in passion, breathing in the scent of shampoo and perfume that drifted from her from when they had bathed after their joining.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, 'Is that what you told Torn?'

He shook his head, 'No, I… I was a little lost for words when he told me.'

The sound of boots on the stairs reached them before Torn appeared in the doorway, his slim frame enlarged by the bulky Krimson Guard armour that he wore. He leant against the doorway as he took in Jak's arms around Keira's waist and his head cradled against the smooth plain of her stomach, crossing his arms, a smirk appeared on his face.

'So this is why you left so early last night.'

Jak's face gained its own smirk as she stood, 'Well I noticed you and Ashelin left pretty early too, Commander.' The remark wiped the smile from Torn's face, the older fighter jabbing a thumb back down the stairs.

'Come on, they're all waiting for you at the Palace. I've got some new clothes for you to change into in the transport.'

Jak shook his head, fingering the rifle at his hip, 'I'm no King Torn and I don't want to be. You can tell the ministers that I've got no problems with Ashelin being in charge. She can run the city better than I ever could.'

Torn shrugged, 'That may be true Jak but it doesn't change anything. The minister's want a Marr on the throne and according to the Shadow, you're the last one around.'

Jak whirled, his temper flaring, as his voice heated, his eyes suddenly bearing the wild, dangerous glint that spoke of the darkness that still lurked within him. 'Since I've come to this city I've been tortured, shot, beaten and nearly killed more times than I can count. I saved the lives of every last one of those idiots in the palace and now they want me to sort out the mess they've made, well tough. I'm not going anywhere, this is the first place in this whole stinking city that I've been able to feel anything like peace. If they want me to lead 'em then they're free to come and try and take me from here cause there's no other way I'm leaving.'

Torn seemed taken aback by his outburst, the taller man backing away from Jak's burning gaze. Keira's small hand slipped into his and he cooled, the change almost startling as he turned to her, the anger fleeing his features instantly to be replaced by an almost desperate sadness, his hand holding hers tightly, as though to let go was to loose himself to the anger forever. He felt some sympathy for the young warrior, from what he knew of his past it had been fraught with danger and his time in the city had done nothing to ease the burden of life on his shoulders. He sighed, turning to Jak as he spoke.

'Look Jak, I know that you don't owe this city anything. Really we all owe you our lives, when you killed the Metalhead leader their attack fell apart and we cleared the city of them. But this city needs a leader, they need a hero that the people can rally around. And as little as you may like it you're the only hero around here.

'The metalheads are disorganised without their leader but they've not disappeared. There're still hundreds of them around the city and in the sewers below. The Krimson Guard are having enough trouble keeping the streets safe. What with all the ministers arguing and splitting our forces we're stretched so thin that if the metalheads ever got organised and attacked again we'd be overwhelmed. Ashelin's doing what she can but a lot of people don't recognise her authority and so she can't make much difference. The people need a leader Jak, someone to keep the ministers from tearing this city apart with their arguing. I never thought I'd say this but we need you Jak. Without you, without a king, Haven City's going to cripple itself and the metalheads are gonna finish us off.'

Jak kept his eyes on Keira, remaining silent, his fist clenching and unclenching before she took his second hand in hers, her slim fingers threading through his as she held him with a surprising grip in her delicate hands. He took strength from the silent bond, drawing from it the peace he had so desperately needed during his time in Haven.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly, so many people had always counted on Jak, none more so than her. Now, when he had been ready to live a life free of the challenges that it brought he had had a new responsibility thrust into his hands, once again people needed him, needed the protection that only he could give them. She knew that as he turned away he did this not for himself but for her.

'Okay. I'll come to the palace and talk to your ministers. But I'm not promising anything.'

Torn toyed with the idea of trying to force the issue but stopped himself. He of all people knew how easily the young man's temper could be summoned. Instead he merely stepped out of the doorway, leaving the way clear as he motioned down the stairs.

'Come on, I've got some appropriate clothes in the carrier, Ashelin insisted that when you show up you at least look like a king. Keira can ride in another carrier, I've got a lot to explain about what's going on up at the palace.'

Jak pulled on a loose, long sleeved black shirt, buttoning it up as he shook his head, 'Keira rides with me and you can keep your clothes, now get out, I need to get dressed.' Torn sighed and again decided against forcing the issue, it was not worth the hassle over his clothes. He retreated down the stairs, the pair listening to his steps until they faded. Jak turned to her and she embraced him, knowing the pain in his eyes and the anger that it summoned. She took him into her arms, letting his own surround her waist as he laid his head in the crook of her neck.

She held him in silence for a moment before he sat back down on the bed, drawing her onto his lap as her arms rose to his neck.

'Why does this always happen Keira?' There was grief in his voice, his eyes glinting with unshed tears as he rose his gaze to meet hers. 'All I ever wanted was to be with you, to marry you in Sandover and grow old beside you. But every time we came close, every time we almost find happiness. Something happens and I'm torn away from you. I… I don't want to loose you again Keira. You're all I've got.' As he spoke the last his voice became choked with unfamiliar emotion, grief welling up in him as his arms tightened around her waist. The tears fell and he turned his head away, weeping silently.

Keira was wordless in her comfort, her arms pulling his head into the warmth of her chest once more, the same fears robbing her of any thought to speak. He rocked back and forth gently with her on his lap for a few moments, letting her warmth seep into him, letting his body memorise her, bond with her setting the link in his very soul. Nothing would keep her from his arms again. He would tear the palace apart with his bare hands to get to her.

He stood and she slipped off him, embracing him for a moment more before her eyes rose, her eyes showing that their moment together had been enough for her to know his thoughts. They would not be parted, two years apart had not kept them from each other and neither would this. Reaching down he grasped his jacket, worn brown leather reaching his waist as he pulled it on, the stock of his rifle hidden beneath the baggy garment. Keira pulled her own out of a cupboard, a clean, bleached leather coat that reached down to her ankles, a slight blue tinge darkening it.

He stared at himself in the mirror and she knew he was seeing himself in the Baron's armour, seeing himself as the ruler. He turned away, shaking his head, it would never happen. He looked up and found her eyes on him, one hand held out in an invitation. He remembered his own words and smiled at her, threading his fingers through hers. She returned the smile and squeezed his hand gently, reassuring him with the wordless gesture as together they moved down the stairs. Whatever happened in the palace he knew that she would not let go and nor would he.

A.N. A large first chapter as an introduction to this saga, I do not know when the next chapter will be posted but with the holidays approaching it should not be long, certainly before Christmas. I do hope that you have enjoyed this first chapter and ask that you let me know what you think of it with reviews or e-mails to my personal address Leo_Magik@hotmail.com. If you wish to be personally notified by me when the next chapter is posted simply request it in your review or e-mail and I will do my best to notify you whenever I update. As always, praise and constructive criticism are welcomed, random flames are not. Until next time,

Go With God

The Visionary