The world since leaving Earth has been a long, lonely experience.
Had he joined the Guardians when they offered, Jack thinks sometimes, he probably would never have lived this long. His myth was obscure enough already, of course it didn't make it off-planet; and he would have withered away as his believers dwindled. But he didn't make that contract all those centuries ago. Something about it just didn't feel right, not with his bitterness towards the Man in the Moon still sitting dark and tangled in his chest, not when they all seemed to expect him to be somebody other than who he is. So instead — instead, he has some handfuls of children that believe in him for a few decades.
And then nothing. Not until Barrayar.
At first, he was only ever intending to make his way towards the planet out of curiosity, hearing that they had appeared out of isolation. But he isn't in any hurry to get there until the first Barrayaran sees him. It might be a coincidence, he tells himself even so, just some fluke, because he doesn't have the courage to risk touching them just to make sure. Another few see him over time, then, and Jack has to slip aboard a ship to Barrayar immediately.
Being planetside is always better for him. He feels uncomfortable on ships and space stations, with no weather to manipulate and no North Wind tugging at him; it's ill-fitting and heavy, like walking around with a ball-and-chain weighing him down. As soon as he gets to Barrayar, he can finally wander as freely as he likes. Once he's eavesdropped enough, paged through stolen books to figure out the place (and what's happening, why they can see him) it only makes sense to visit the heart of their Imperium. Besides — it's always been fun to mess with royalty, and he has to take his fun where he can get it these days.
He comes to the Imperial Gardens when he gets bored for the time being with playing the poltergeist (and he thinks that a few people saw him, too, which is— it doesn't even seem real) and perhaps he only intends to wander about there; but he sees the boy hidden away, and he recognises him. Young Emperor-to-be.
It isn't sneaking up on him, not really; Jack doesn't even think that he might be noticed at all, and so it's not a deliberate choice to drift over from behind, to quietly hook his feet and staff on a branch and hang there, upside-down and over Gregor. He wonders, idly, what the boy is like; considers following him for a while to see, or trying to interfere and steer him away from becoming a bad politician.
But for the moment—
"Well," he says aloud, "I can see you're hard at work," and it isn't meant to be heard. One-sided conversations are a necessary habit, through centuries of isolation.
no subject
Had he joined the Guardians when they offered, Jack thinks sometimes, he probably would never have lived this long. His myth was obscure enough already, of course it didn't make it off-planet; and he would have withered away as his believers dwindled. But he didn't make that contract all those centuries ago. Something about it just didn't feel right, not with his bitterness towards the Man in the Moon still sitting dark and tangled in his chest, not when they all seemed to expect him to be somebody other than who he is. So instead — instead, he has some handfuls of children that believe in him for a few decades.
And then nothing. Not until Barrayar.
At first, he was only ever intending to make his way towards the planet out of curiosity, hearing that they had appeared out of isolation. But he isn't in any hurry to get there until the first Barrayaran sees him. It might be a coincidence, he tells himself even so, just some fluke, because he doesn't have the courage to risk touching them just to make sure. Another few see him over time, then, and Jack has to slip aboard a ship to Barrayar immediately.
Being planetside is always better for him. He feels uncomfortable on ships and space stations, with no weather to manipulate and no North Wind tugging at him; it's ill-fitting and heavy, like walking around with a ball-and-chain weighing him down. As soon as he gets to Barrayar, he can finally wander as freely as he likes. Once he's eavesdropped enough, paged through stolen books to figure out the place (and what's happening, why they can see him) it only makes sense to visit the heart of their Imperium. Besides — it's always been fun to mess with royalty, and he has to take his fun where he can get it these days.
He comes to the Imperial Gardens when he gets bored for the time being with playing the poltergeist (and he thinks that a few people saw him, too, which is— it doesn't even seem real) and perhaps he only intends to wander about there; but he sees the boy hidden away, and he recognises him. Young Emperor-to-be.
It isn't sneaking up on him, not really; Jack doesn't even think that he might be noticed at all, and so it's not a deliberate choice to drift over from behind, to quietly hook his feet and staff on a branch and hang there, upside-down and over Gregor. He wonders, idly, what the boy is like; considers following him for a while to see, or trying to interfere and steer him away from becoming a bad politician.
But for the moment—
"Well," he says aloud, "I can see you're hard at work," and it isn't meant to be heard. One-sided conversations are a necessary habit, through centuries of isolation.