Corad: Hey guys...been a while since my last update lol. Sorry Re4per, I can't really wait any longer for you to correct any of my mistakes in this chapter. I'm probably better just beta reading on my own...if that's alright with you. But thanks anyway for having an attempt! Now, I want to thank my wonderful reviewers! To Yoshomo, thanks so much for leaving a review! I always love the occasional new reviewer, so thanks for your time! Thankyou too Sanctus for your nice comment. I hope you can read my stuff ok...the earlier chapters are totally riddled with mistakes lol. But thanks for your time! Thankyou Jaklover for your encouragement too. You guys make me smile! Thanks to Re4per too for your review lol. I love your attitude so much! But thankyou for your nice words too. Also to my new reader Rebel Shadownight, I wish you luck reading this. Not sure when you'll actually get up to this chapter, but I'm thanking you anyway! Now, on with the fic! You guys have waited enough lol

I don't own Jak and Daxter, but I own Sharok and this plot. Also, the start of this is a way of relieving built up tension and stuff, so it's kinda humerous... please enjoy!


Chapter 64 – To Deny or Accept

It was huge; larger than before by the looks of things. But she was happy. So long had they waited for the Palace to be complete, and now after 19 months of hard work, it finally stood ready to reside in. Grabbing what little belongings Ashelin kept from under her Underground bed, she piled it on the desk. Moving out at last from their base made her forget her troubles with the city. Made her forget the wolf problem they were currently struggling to deal with. The past two weeks had passed without many murders, and the wolves had been keeping back out of the city for some reason, but still the citizens were uptight. Still paranoid that they'd be next to die.

"Ashelin sweetie, need any help?" She turned her sweaty face to Torn who came stumbling down the stairs, before stopping at her side. He held a triumphant smirk across his tattooed face, and Ashelin wondered what he was so happy about.

"Torn, you finally back from patrol duty I see? No, I'm capable thanks. Will you be moving in with me soon? The Palace is too large a place for a single girl you know," Ashelin murmured, stacking things into a wooden box. Torn chuckled lightly and wandered up to the desk, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Ash, you know I would, but this place is my home. At least for now. Tell you what, when this has all blown over, and the city really can be called 'Haven' city, I'll think about it all right. You know you're always welcome back here though," Torn said, his voice suddenly serious. Ashelin turned to look at him, a small diary grasped in her hands ready to lower into the box.

A smile stretched across her lips as she said, "Of course Torn. And you know you're always welcome to stay at the Palace." She sighed heavily as she finally placed the small book into the box, shifting out of Torn's embrace to search the room for more belongings. She found a few more items, particularly those she kept when staying in the Palace with her father. One was his sword, stacked at the back of the room covered in dust.

"You are really taking that?" Torn mumbled from one of the beds. Ashelin looked up, the sword grasped tightly in her hand, to see Torn watching her carefully. She stepped out of the back corner and wandered up to him, laying the sword across his lap before retreating back to the corner to search through more piled up boxes.

"Of course I am. Although my father may have made wrong choices for the city's sake, he was still my father. Somewhere deep down I know there's compassion for him. Besides, that was his only sword. I'm sure it'll be worth a lot in a few decades' time," she replied with a grin, dragging out a round, dark red rug from under the boxes. Torn got up from the bed, laying the sword carefully on the mattress and took the rug from Ashelin. He disappeared up the stairs and out the door with it, and returned a few moments later sneezing uncontrollably.

"Torn, you know you get hay fever! Why did you beat the rug?" Ashelin laughed, once Torn placed the dust free rug beside her box if items. Torn didn't reply, and collapsed back on the bed, shoving his face into the pillow in the hopes he'd stop sneezing. He failed miserably, and retreated back outside for some "fresh" air.

Gathering up her box and rug, Ashelin followed Torn outside and over to a parked hellcat at the end of the passage. She began loading the things into the passenger seat, strapping them in so they wouldn't fall out on her short trip. After securing them in, she turned to Torn, whose face was flushed and took him into a reassuring hug.

"Well, I'm off now Torn. Tell Jinx he's welcome to move into the Palace. There are so many guestrooms they'll be plenty of room. Don't do anything stupid either Torn. I know how you react sometimes, so keep out of trouble. If I find out you've be killed, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself!" Ashelin snapped jokingly, shaking his shoulders in the hopes to look threatening. Torn however laughed loudly and brought her close, hugging her tightly against his chest.

"You take care yourself Ash. Don't let those city folk push your spirits down," he whispered, kissing her gently on the cheek before letting her go. She slid into the Hellcat seat, and buckled up before turning on the ignition. Giving Torn one last wave, she raised the hellcat slowly, before blasting off around the corner in the direction of the Palace.

Torn stood staring after her, praying that she would be ok through all of this. She knew to come back if things got tough. She knew he'd be there to help her, to love her. But something inside of him wouldn't quit nagging away. Shaking his head to rid those thoughts, he turned to go back inside the Underground, when he remembered all the dust. Maybe going back in wasn't such a good idea yet. Perhaps Jak would be happy to provide some entertainment for a while? It was worth a shot, even if the blonde did chuck him out the bar.


Silent chuckles floated around the bedroom as another drop of dye was spread across the pleasant, sleeping face. This had been supplying endless amounts of fun on Erol's behalf, but he knew when Jak finally awoke to a multicolored face, it would be his ass on the line. But there was a slight chance Jak wouldn't suspect him, the man who had become somewhat friends with him. But this was Jak we're talking about, always jumping to random conclusions and screaming at things which don't even exist (Jak: Hey, don't blame me for your stupid actions!). When Daxter stumbled in a few moments later letting out a loud, horrified scream, awakening Jak; Erol knew his time had come…to flee down the stairs.

Leaping up from the floor, the redhead tripped over the small pallet of dye, spreading it everywhere in his feeble attempts to run for his life. Jak, still groggy and unaware of even the simple, most obvious of things, sat up and rubbed at his eyes and cheek. Daxter still stood planted to the floor, staring up at him in horror as some of the ink began trickling down his face. Wondering what exactly it was, Jak wiped at his face, looking down at his hands and shouting instant words of profanity, directly aimed at Erol.

From downstairs Erol shuddered at Jak's murderous tone, and sat in his booth, acting casual like as if he didn't do it. He forced his face to look serene and happy, although the guilty feeling was beginning to come up again. But why was he guilty? Jak had been asking for it. On numerous nights the blonde had taken up residence in the shower, stealing all the hot water leaving him with cold. Other times Jak had randomly stumbled downstairs during the night, complaining of things Erol didn't want to know about whilst raiding the bar fridge, and whenever he and Sky were talking, note: talking, Jak would always interrupt telling them to get a room. Erol had clearly had enough of it after a week, and planned revenge, so dastardly that not even Baron Praxis would be capable of doing it (Bijoux: You know, this isn't Palace Stories…).

When loud footsteps thundered down the stairs a few seconds later, and a red faced Jak stooped over Erol's booth table, one eye twitching rather unpleasantly, Erol knew his time was up again, and now he'd be forced to run out the bar. But maybe if he ran out the bar Jak would follow, and the citizens and guards outside would see him, dressed in his Pajamas with a face full of rainbow dye. It was worth a shot.

"Hello Jak."

"Don't play dumb with me Erol! You did this! YOU DID IT!" Jak shouted, pointing to his rainbow cheeks. Now that Erol thought about it, he should've colored his hair rainbow, and painted his face white. A clown would really suit Jak right about now. However, he didn't dwell on it, because Jak was becoming dangerously close to him, and he felt if he waited any longer, he'd become trapped…in his own Haven.

"Jak, Jak, Jak…I didn't do it…it was that rat of yours. Besides, it'll wash off, it's water soluble," Erol explained in an inocent tone, inching his way out of the booth and taking small, unnoticeable fairy steps over to the door. He could see Jak was about to have another outburst, and dashed to the door, tripping over the threshold and landing face first on the cold pavement outside. Jak ran after him, dark Jak getting ready to break through before Jak realized he was flying…to the ground. He landed with a muffled thud on top of Erol, who was struggling to get up. Dark Jak had been forcefully knocked back into the shadows of Jak's mind along with the crackling dark eco on his skin, so the blonde lay feeling dazed, wondering what exactly had just happened.

"Get off me you fool! People are looking at us," Erol growled, trying to push himself up with his arms. Jak looked around at the guards and citizens staring at them, before looking down at what exactly he was lying on. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Gah! Erol! What the hell are you doing!"

"Me? You're the fool who tripped! Now get the hell off me!" Erol cried out, his voice steadily rising to a raging one, just as Jak picked himself up. He brushed his hands on his pajama pants, and noticed rainbow colors rubbing off and staining them. Rainbow colors? Wait a sec…

"Rainbow…" Jak growled deeply, just as he remembered what he'd been doing before Dark began fighting with him to come out. He didn't notice Erol leap up and continue running along the Port, but when he did, shot off after him, eye twitching again while Dark started nagging to let him come out and "play".

"Erol you bastard! Get your sorry ass back here and face me like a man! Or are you too coward!" Jak shouted, ignoring the guards snorting at him as he passed. Those simple words made Erol stop suddenly, and he spun around, just in time to see Jak leap at him, tackling him hard into the ground. But if only the ground had been another meter long or so, because they completely missed it and flew into the port water.

Splashing and kicking about in the murky water, Erol came up to the surface, coughing up stuff from his lungs. Jak floated to the surface a second later, the dye sliding off his face quite easily as he looked around, eyes wide in shock. Where was he now? 'Dark, stay out of my mind when I'mseeking revenge onErol,' Jak snapped after realizing he was in the Port, floating beside the man he was trying to get revenge on, drenched head to toe in the gross, slimywater.

"Anger management," Erol hissed at him, splashing water over at Jak's direction. Maybe Erol was right. Jak would need to give Dark Jak anger management lessons…

"What the hell are you two doing! Jak, what's that on your face? And why the heck are you still dressed in your night attire!" Both Jak and Erol looked up to see Torn, standing with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a penetrating glare shifting between them.

"This jerk put dye on my face while I was asleep!"

"I told you, it washes out with water! Look, it's coming off now!"

"I don't want to hear any more of your lies!"

"Jak, will you shut up! He's telling the truth!" Torn cut in, pointing at the colors floating on the surface of the water, looking like oil. "See, now get your asses over here and get out!" Jak and Erol waded their way towards Torn, who managed to haul them out the water although he struggled for a bit. Now both elves lay dripping on the concrete, feeling like drowned cats.

"Bids on the shower," Jak said quickly, and Erol struggled to understand a word he had just said. However, when Jak dashed quickly back into the bar and slammed the door behind him, he knew the shower now belonged to the Blonde.

"DAM YOU JAK!" he screamed, standing up on his feet and kicking off his shoes. Water puddled out, and he sneered down at them, hating their existence even more. Torn kept eyeing him uneasily, especially when the red head began shouting and kicking his shoes towards the bar. He disappeared through the door, and Torn felt it would be safe to follow him now. Whatever the maniac had done, he probably deserved what he got.

"Stupid heap of (beep)! Get the (beep) off me; you (beeping) (beep)!" Torn almost paled at the sight of Erol tearing off his shirt and flinging it to the ground. It made a horrid splat noise when it came in contact with the wooden planks. "I'll teach you to defy me!" he continued shouting, pulling his pistol out its holster and hurling it at his drenched shirt. The gun hit the ground and went off, sending a bullet whizzing dangerously close to Torn's ear.

"Calm down man! It's only a bit of Port water. It's not going to kill you!" Torn tried to reassure, but Erol kept yelling and removing items of wet clothing until he'd stripped down to nothing but boxer shorts. That was when he turned his attention to Torn, his face an angry, angry, Praxis based Red.

"Leave." The hiss was almost unidentifiable, but Torn gathered up what he meant when his arm began pointing at the front door. Torn didn't exactly feel like leaving yet, so he headed upstairs to keep the orange ottsel company, after assuming he was up there. When he'd left the room and climbed the stairs, he heard another splat, and shuddered. Yes, he had wanted entertainment, but this was just too much for him, especially this time of morning.

After that, the place began to calm down. Jak had come out the shower, dressed in clean clothes with his wet hair combed back and face free of rainbow colors. He sat down on his bed, staring blankly at Torn who had taken a seat on the small table beside the wall. Neither said a thing, not ever Daxter who still stood rooted to the spot from before.

"You'll pay for this Jak! I'll get you when you least expect it, in your dreams!" Erol said angrily, storming up the stairs and into the bathroom with a small towel wrapped around his bare waist. He slammed the door, locking in the steam and heat from Jak's previous shower.

"How can you least expect it if he told you when he'd next attack?" Torn asked mystified, looking at the closed door, to Daxter's wide eyes, to Jak who sat looking bored and zoned out.

"Torn, I don't know. Let's just agree that he's an idiot," Jak replied blankly, resting his head on the head of the bed and closing his eyes. It had been a strange morning, Jak thought. Not only had he awoken to Erol painting his face, he had almost lost control with Dark twice, been flung into the port alongside Erol, and had Torn lecture him about keeping himself under control. But the mood changed dramatically when Erol returned from the shower, his body shivering after being forced to use cold water yet again.

"So, what brings you here, Torn?" he snarled, drying his damp hair with a towel. Torn shrugged his shoulders against the wall before answering.

"Ashelin moved out today, back into the Palace. The Underground is too dusty at the present time to go back in, so I decided to pay you guys a visit."

"I see…so, are you moving in with her?" Erol asked out of curiosity, raising an eyebrow and seating himself at the end of Jak's bed. Torn shook his head slowly, sighing.

"I'd prefer to stay at the base. Called it my home for a few years now, and it just wouldn't seem right deserting it. Besides, this wolf problem needs to be sorted out, and what better place to do it than in the Underground?" he replied with a fake smile. Jak could sense he didn't feel what was shown across his face, and leant in closer to him.

"You know, Ashelin might need your support and uh, friendship right now. You said it yourself citizens were giving her a hard time," Jak muttered, trying to keep his voice to a low so Erol wouldn't hear. However, the red head had picked up the silent conversation, and chimed in with a simple "Let go of you pride and move in with her." But it was ironic that Erol would have said that, for he's been proved to have problems with his own Pride o.O

"Jak, I know you're right. She does need support, but I don't think I'm the right man to give it to her. She'll be fine. She's strong you know," Torn said gruffly, getting up from the table and ruffling his clothes back in place. He made a move to leave, but turned around before he reached the stairs. "Seen your father lately?"

The question took Jak by surprise. Why would Torn be asking him this? Why would he honestly care? "Uh, no Torn. I haven't. Why?"

"Well, next time you speak with him, propose coming back again. I think we may need his warfare experience and support right now. He needs to consider whose side he's on. You claim he was like a father to the wolves, right? Well what about us? What about you? You're his son, so don't you think he should be protecting you and fighting alongside us? Get him to answer that one for me," Torn said harshly, before departing down the stairs. Erol, Jak and Daxter heard the front door slide shut a few moments later, and the ottsel finally spoke up.

"He's right you know Jak. If Damas would only come back to Haven, he could rule by your side. Can you feel the power already Jak!" Daxter shouted enthusiastically, clenching his fists in line with his eyes. Jak snorted back laughter, and stood from his bed, tossing things off his desk to find his dagger and gun. They were lying under piles of junk, and once the blonde had found them, he slid his gun into its sling and dagger into the sheath.

"I'm heading out to find him. Daxter, you coming?"

The ottsel leapt at Jak's question, and gave him the thumbs up. "Sure thing buddy! I have a few, convincing tricks up my sleeve," he finished slyly, smoothing back the fur on his forehead. Jak rolled his eyes, before turning to Erol. He didn't want him to come, not after that previous incident. But what if they ran into trouble? Who would aid him in battle? Daxter couldn't, for he was too small and wasn't a match against those wolves.

"Erol, are you coming?" It was simple and harsh, no sign of compassion whatsoever. He waited for the response, but got none as the ex-commander got up off the bed and wandered to the stairs. "Don't ignore me Erol. Answer the damn question!"

"Jak, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have my own business to attend to. You meet with your little 'daddy' and bring him back. You don't need me," he said clearly, a form of strange smile spread across his face. He left without another word, leaving Jak standing puzzled.

"Come on Jak, let's go! Damas could be anywhere!" Daxter snapped, clambering onto Jak's shoulder and slapping him lightly on the face. Jak cut off his trail of thought, and dashed down the stairs and past Erol who stood at his booth, loading his gun full of ammo. Jak wondered where he was going to need a gun, but thought nothing else when he ran out the door and to the Air Train. Once he'd boarded the vehicle and taken it to the wasteland, the doors opened and he leapt out into the hot sun. Waves of heat were radiating from the golden sand, and the sky was almost cloudless. It was a nice day, but not to tackle the scorching desert in.

"So ah Jak, where are we heading first?" Daxter piped up, cutting through the heavy silence. Jak scanned the area, eyes falling on the air train, to the tall Spargus walls, to the endless dunes and rocks, to finally the place he and Sky had morphed that time to speak with the pack.

"First I'm going to morph, and then we shall just explore the area until we find him," Jak replied, jogging across the sand and stopping when he was hidden from the Spargus gate. He let his ottsel friend off his shoulder while he took out the pendant, and cast his gaze down, chanting to the precursor text written around the edge. He felt the dull pain begin to throb in his chest again, and forced himself to cope in silence, holding back screams of pain while his body mutated into a four-legged beast.

When Jak had finally morphed and was standing still, his rugged breathing calming down and his shaking nerves easing, Daxter picked up the pendant and placed it around his own neck before scrambling onto Jak's back. The small ottsel gripped at Jak's fur on his neck, straddling his shoulder blades next to his wings. He gave a slight squeeze with his feet to tell Jak he was ready to go, so the wolf began inching his way around the rock.

Blue eyes were focused on the far gate, scanning the surrounding area for any sign of movement. Risking his chance, he ran out, legs lashing into the sand, wings spreading with each fast step until they were at full length. He began flapping them with what power he could muster, all the while sprinting across the ground. He could feel Daxter pressing himself against his neck, and heard him whimpering near his ear as they began to leave the ground and rise in the air. Large wings glinted in the sunlight, feathers ruffling in the mild wind around them as they soared like a giant hawk hunting for prey, through the blue sky.

Below them the sand looked magnificent, dotted with little green and brown specks, and the narrow streams that ran from waterfalls towards the ocean looked beautiful. However Jak wasn't inclined to watch the scenery and ponder to himself how wonderful it looked. He had a job to do, and that was to find Damas.

They spent a while searching the dunes in the air, often seeing a lone wolf wandering below, but still no Damas. Jak was beginning to wonder whether Damas was staying in a cave again, when he spotted something below beside a stream. His heart sped up and his breathing got caught up in his lungs as feathered wings tucked in at his sides and he dived downwards. Daxter began screaming and gripping the grey fur as tightly as he could while the earth sped faster and faster towards them, before Jak finally withdrew his wings and spread them out again, slowing his fall.

Paws landed gracefully in the sand, whilst wings tucked themselves in again. The orange ottsel was shaking in fear beside Jak's warm body, and he let out a low chuckle. Ever since he'd gotten the hang of flying, he wasn't scared to show off. Diving was his personal favourite, but he knew Daxter hated it.

"Jak, remind me…NEVER…to go with you again," he cried, sitting back and letting his nerves calm down. The wolf Jak rolled his eyes, knowing all too well Daxter would say that, but then again would reappear by his side claiming he wanted totag along.

"Whatever Dax," he replied in a low growl, striding cautiously over to the figure at the stream's edge. The figure turned around, blue eyes meeting blue, and stood beckoning him to come forth. Jak approached him and waited for his father to kneel down to eye level.

"Jak, what brings you out here?" Damas asked in a hoarse voice, his rough hands stroking Jak's neck. "Has something happened in Haven city?"

Jak shook his head, and stood back, motioning for Daxter to hold the pendant up to his face. He recited the wolfish language and writhed about in the sand as his form changed yet again. His father stepped forth and laid a hand on his shoulder, encouraging Jak to sit up once he'd calmed down. The blonde opened his eyes slowly, and blinked a few times to readjust his eyes to the sunlight, before turning his head slightly to his old man.

"Father," he choked out, using what was left of his energy to sit up, and shake sand out his hair. "Father, I came to ask you something. Please, consider my question carefully before answering," Jak muttered, getting up from the hot ground and looking up into his father's eyes.

"As you wish Jak," he replied in an almost whisper.

"Father, whose side are you fighting for? Ours' or the wolves'?" His question was clear and simple, but Damas' expression turned to a puzzled one, as he struggled for words. When he finally spoke up, it dampened Jak's spirits.

"I fight for neither Jak. Both wolf and elf are my friends, and I refuse to fight alongside anyone. I help out both races," the older elf explained, resting himself on a large rock. Jak growled in frustration and sat beside him, shoulder pressed against shoulder.

"Be that as it may father, but I need to know. Do you care more about the wolves who are killing elves, or your own son?"

"Jak, this is ridiculous. You know you are my main priority, and your safety is what matters most to an old man like me, but elves are not exactly free from sin either. Haven't they killed wolves too? I heard your Erol friend killed 6 of their pack. 6 lives wasted Jak. 6 warriors and hunters they are down let alone guardians." Damas had a point. Wolves may have attacked elves and even killed them, but what of the elves slaughtering the beasts. Something just didn't feel right though.

"I can see what you mean, but Damas…will you come back to the city? We need your advice. Your leadership and strength. Torn said so himself that they need a leader and battle advisor such as yourself. Will you please consider it?" Jak mumbled, looking to the ground in a shadowy gaze. Damas chuckled beside him, shaking his head in disbelief.

"They need my help now, do they? I thought the whole city was against me for creating such a worthless plan those years back. It had been my idea to penetrate the Metal Head nest when the wars first began. As a result Praxis threw me out and took over throne. He backed me up along the way, urging me to go forth and complete the plan to annihilate the Metal heads in one swift attack, but he forced the blame of our failure on me, and exiled this lonely warrior you see today. Son, do you honestly think it wise to send me back, to devise strategies to end this war in your favour? Well, do you?"

Jak sat in silence, unable to think of an answer or anything at all. He had known Damas was exiled, but wasn't entirely sure how or why. So, Praxis had been behind it all. He'd gathered that much when he first met his father, but didn't believe it till now. "We need you. Now, will you come back? I think Ashelin needs an advisor, and moral support. I think there's a room in the Palace for awarrior such as yourself too, you know," Jak said slyly, getting up from the rock and turning to his father. Damas just looked up at him. His face was a mixture of being caught in dilemma and that of deep thought, when finally he nodded his head.

"Jak, I've decided. I shall accompany you back, and try to turn this war around. However, if the war is flawed by a third party, I shall halt my aid and leave you. The wasteland has accepted me once, and I'm sure it shall accept me again if I leave Haven," he replied in a serious tone, standing off the rock. Jak felt his heart explode in joy, but kept a blank face and lowered his head in a bow to thank his father without words. A firm hand squeezed his shoulder tightly, before Damas passed him on his way towards Spargus.

Jak had other plans however, and beckoned Daxter over with his pendant. Chanting the vow, he morphed into the wolf again, and ran past Damas, blocking his path. "Hop on father," he growled deeply, lowering his front half towards the ground. Damas stood back watching Jak in shock, before Daxter wandered past and leapt up behind the wolf's large head, legs straddling his neck again. The older elf debated whether or not to trust Jak, but decided to go along with it. He wasn't too keen on wandering the hot sand on foot when he could take a free lift.

"You have it Jak," he muttered, placing a rough hand on Jak's shoulder blade and swinging a leg up over his back. Jak began to struggle when Damas sat down, but kept his strength up and yelped for him to hang on before rushing down the dunes and taking flight once more, his father's voicenow accompanying Daxter's terrified screams.


Corad: Ah yes, another chapter down. I think this one is the longest chapter to date lol. Sitting around 5000 words I believe. When I first began writing this chapter, I was in a hyper mood. You guys can probably tell from the writing...but as I progressed I went back to normal, hence more descriptions, less idiotic behaviour etc. Next chapter will introduce two more very minor characters, so you guys can choose to like 'em or hate 'em. Either way...they'll only stick around for a chapter or two lol. Also, I fixed up my homepage link to fanart the other day. They've totally upgraded that site, and I think it's a whole lot better to be honest. But if you ever wanna check out my pics, it's working again. I've done a few Fullmetal Praxemist pics up too if you're interested. Sorry about the long, long wait on that fic...it's just so hard to get it done lol. But we're trying, so don't fret! Anyhow, hope you guys liked this chapter, and maybe if I'm lucky I'll get a review or two. See you all next time in the upcoming chapter! Toodles guys! (bear hugs you all)