A/N: So...I'M BACK. With a series of vignettes and one shots that not only spoil the "Blood Ties" trilogy but the original Jak and Daxter trilogy. So read Blood Ties (links on my profile), play Jak and then read these ^^ hehe, don't say I warned you.

Those who HAVE read them: at the end/ beginning, I'll also include quotes from one of the stories which will hopefully trigger a "Ah, THAT'S what they were referring to!" type reaction. Or just emphasise the story. You know.

Anyway, please read and review, or I won't upload another one. Also, Shakespeare is always relevant, at least for this trilogy. :DD

Muchos love-os,

MikaHaeli8

Between Ch. 41 and the Epilogue, "What Sorrow..."

"Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene..."

Damas Mar Hagai, Eco Sage, retired Combat Racer and Highest Advisor licked his dry lips and closed the large, heavy book he had been writing in for innumerable hours, moving the candle to a safe distance from the tome. He sat back and watched the Yellow Eco flame flicker on the dark cover, running his hands over its textured cover, his mind turning over what he had read, sealing it in his frontal lobe, shaping itself into a comprehensible story to tell his nephew, should he want to hear it.

He sat back, staring upwards into the great, cavernous ceiling of the small study, well concealed by the sliding camouflage doors of the Spargus Palace Throne Room, where his nephew – King Rufas Mar of Sandover and Spargus City – was sitting, accessible to all. The young man was twenty-four years of age, a good and fair, if tough, king, who apparently like his father seemed older than his years but had his mother's heart. It was the traits of his mother that he had rejected outright for many years, believing her to have abandoned him when he was young despite Damas' attempts at convincing him otherwise.

"...From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean..."

The King's Highest Advisor pushed himself up onto his feet, using the arms of the chair for support, noticing with mild disdain how his bones protested upon their use. He should not have been surprised. Even though he was a Sage and thus prone to living a longer life, he, like everyone, was getting old and resented it. He exited the study and entered the main Throne Room.

The young man on the throne heard the door slide open and turned his head in the direction of his uncle, a quizzical look on his face.

"So soon, Uncle?"

Damas nodded, stopping. "Yes. May I...?"

"You may," the young King said, his dark violet eyes unreadable, much like those of his grandfather. "What is it?

For once in his life, Damas was unsure as to how to phrase the question that was on his tongue. He simply decided to begin by confirming his nephew's first address. "I have finished compiling everything that is know about your mother – "

Rufas waved a hand, cutting him off. "Damas. I don't want to know about the woman who abandoned me."

At any other time, Damas would have backed down to his nephew's request. Now, however, he would not. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up, looked the young man in the eyes and spoke in a loud, clear voice. "Rufas Day Mar Ghosten, in case it has escaped your attention in the numerous times I have told you, this is something your mother herself specifically asked me to do. I will not rest until you know the truth, even if you choose to continue believing she abandoned you."

"...From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife...

His voice echoed amidst the eternal waterfalls of the Throne Room. Rufas rested his chin on his hands, leaning on the arms of the throne, eyebrows locked in a pensive frown. Damas waited silently, patiently, for an answer, the book from earlier contained within his arms.

Finally, Rufas spoke.

"Okay."

His uncle was startled, not expecting him to answer at all, let alone give in. "W-what?"

"Okay." Rufas turned to face his uncle. "I...I want to...hear about my mother. If it aids or contrasts my belief that she abandoned me...I do not care. I...I want to hear the truth." He bit his lip, his voice shaking.

"Today?"

"It's a good a day as any," the King calmly replied.

"...The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage..."

Taking a seat next to the throne, Damas Mar Hagai smiled briefly.

"Before we begin, what is the time?" Rufas inquired.

"Ten hours," his uncle replied. "You do not have any business which requires your urgent attention. And remember, this does not have to be told in one day,"

Rufas' face softened into a smile which reminded Damas of the boy's mother. "Let us do as much as we both can manage. If urgent business interrupts, so be it."

Damas smiled again, this time wider, and opened the book which he'd spent many years compiling, smoothing the pages down, and began to read in the loud, clear voice that brought Rufas back many years.

"The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend."