Author's Note: This is a Young Hercules story that came to me. It answers a challenge set forth long ago by the "Iolausian Writer's Circle": How does Iolaus learn to swim? (He couldn't in the YH series, but could in H:TLJ) As always, no copyright infringement intended against characters owned by RenPics or USA Studios - this story is strictly for entertainment, not profit.
“Look, Herc. He came this way.” Iolaus motioned to his friend excitedly as he knelt on the ground, examining the trail that was much more visible to him than it was to the less experienced Hercules.
“Iolaus, you’ve been tracking this stag all afternoon,” the young demigod complained. “I think you’d better forget it for today. We’re due back at the Academy soon, and you know what Chiron said he’d do to you if you were late again.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Iolaus griped. “But we still have a few minutes. I’m sure he’s in this grove. Come on, Herc. We’ll split up. You take the left and I’ll take the right. We’ll flush him out. Please? If we don’t find him in here, then I swear we’ll head back to the Academy. Come on...”
Hercules knew if he had a dinar for every time he’d given in to Iolaus when he flashed those sad puppy eyes, he’d probably have triple what Jason had in the royal treasury. And each time he did, he usually swore to himself that it was the last time.
“All right,” he finally agreed with a weighted sigh. “One quick trip around the grove, IF you promise that we’ll head back right after.”
“You got it,” Iolaus said with an exuberant grin. There was no doubt in his mind that venison would be replacing the standard oat fare for that evening’s meal. Giving the demigod a quick salute, he silently began stalking through the trees, keeping to the right side of the grove. Hercules watched him go, shaking his head slightly before disappearing into the left side of the grove.
Iolaus pushed his way through the thick underbrush, his face a determined mask of concentration. His hunter’s intuition told him that he was close. He could sense the stag before him, looming up ahead. Creeping forward, Iolaus relied on all of his skills to tune into the animal and predict just where he would find it. His instincts had been correct, and he came upon the stag as it was dipping its muzzle into a small stream to drink. Scarcely daring to breathe, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and fitted it to his bow in one smooth motion. The stag abruptly lifted its head, ears twitching as it tried to locate the danger it suddenly felt but could not see. Iolaus carefully drew back his bow, sighting his target with precise aim.
A noise made Iolaus lower his bow and look behind him. Something that sounded like a cry for help had grabbed his attention. He saw nothing, and when he turned back around the stag was gone. Iolaus was about to start following it, when the sound came again. This time, he was sure it was someone calling for help, so he immediately began sprinting in the direction from where the noise had come.
As Iolaus left the grove behind him and burst into a clearing, he immediately saw what the problem was, and it momentarily stopped his heart. A little boy was standing by the side of a large pond, screaming as another boy flailed frantically in the water.
“Please, you have to help us,” the child cried, running up and grabbing the cadet by the hand. “My brother’s drowning!”
“Ok, don’t worry.” Iolaus tried to sound reassuring, but inside he was terrified. He ran to the edge of the pond and waded in a few steps, but he soon realized that the boy was out too far and the water was too deep. There was no way he could reach him without the water being over his head. Looking around quickly, Iolaus also saw that there were no strong vines or long branches that he could throw out to the child.
“Listen to me,” he commanded, grabbing the hysterical boy at the pond’s edge and giving him a slight shake. “I have to go get help.”
“Can’t you save him?” the child sobbed desperately.
“No.” The word tore at Iolaus’ soul. “But I have a friend right back there in the woods. He’ll be able to help, I promise. I have to go get him, but I need you to stay here and keep an eye on your brother. You watch him, and try to keep him calm, ok? Tell him to hang on, and we’ll be right back.” Without waiting for an answer, Iolaus was up and running for the grove, taking a quick look behind him at the scared, fatigued face of the child floundering in the water.
“Hercules,” he yelled, flying through the underbrush, ignoring the twigs that scratched his skin and tangled in his air. “Where in Tartarus are you? Hercules!” Iolaus continued his desperate search for his friend, speeding through the grove as he repeatedly called out his name. The seconds were ticking by, and he was becoming more and more frantic as each one passed. Finally, his calls were answered with the demigod’s shout.
“You were right about the stag,” Hercules called out, seeing his friend approach. “It came flying out of the bushes right past me. I tried to get a shot but it ran by too.... Iolaus, what is it?”
“There’s... a kid. Drowning,” he managed to gasp out.
“Where?”
With no time to stop and catch his breath, Iolaus turned and began running back to the pond, leading the way with Hercules on his heels. When they entered the clearing, they found the boy beside himself at the pond’s edge.
“He went under a minute ago and didn’t come back up,” the child screamed in terror.
“Show me where,” Hercules commanded. As the boy pointed out where he had last seen his brother, the demigod took off running and dove into the water, swimming out to the spot with hard, fast strokes.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” Iolaus panted, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Herc will find him. You’ll see.”
Hercules plunged under the surface of the water, but came up empty handed a few moments later. Drawing a quick breath, he dove under once more. Again, he surfaced, took a breath, and went back under. Iolaus said a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening, heart in his mouth as he scanned the pond for signs of movement. Finally, Hercules appeared and began swimming for shore, hauling with him the still form of the boy. Iolaus waded out as far as he could to meet them, taking the child from Hercules and carrying him back to solid ground.
“He’s alive, but he’s not breathing,” Hercules announced, checking him quickly. “Hold him up.”
Iolaus pulled the boy into a sitting position and held him there as the demigod crouched behind him. Cupping his hand, Hercules gave him a firm blow to the back. There was no response. He tried again, but still nothing.
“Come on, kid, you can do it,” Iolaus whispered as the child’s head lolled limply against his arm. He pushed the dripping hair back from the boy’s face and tried to hold his head steady as Hercules whacked him again. “Don’t give up on us now.” The demigod struck him once more, but this time the child jerked spasmodically and began coughing water out of his lungs. Iolaus held him tightly, watching as what seemed like half the pond bubbled over his blue lips. Finally, he ceased choking and began to regain consciousness. Iolaus carefully eased him back into Hercules’ arms, leaving him to comfort the boy while he sought to reassure his brother. The younger child had been watching the proceedings in silence, great tears slipping down his cheeks as he saw the two cadets feverishly trying to revive his brother.
“He’s going to be all right,” Iolaus promised, kneeling down before the boy. “Its all over now. Your brother’s going to be fine.” The child began sobbing once more, and Iolaus drew him into his embrace. “I know,” he whispered, hugging the shaking boy tightly to him. “Believe me, I know. But everything’s ok. I promise.”
Hercules and Iolaus dutifully decided to escort the boys home once they had all sufficiently calmed down. The demigod carried the older brother, who was still weak and shaky from his experience. Iolaus devoted his attention to the younger boy, doing his best to entertain him as he let him ride piggyback.
“Looks like we’re going to be late after all,” Hercules commented cheerfully. “Guess that means latrine duty for the next week.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about it, Herc,” Iolaus said quietly. “No one ever makes heroes clean the latrines.”
Hercules left the dining hall and strolled out into the Academy’s yard. Darkness had fallen, but the night was mild and insects were chirping against the gentle breeze. As he suspected, a solitary figure was hunched on one of the wooden benches.
“Hey,” the demigod greeted, sliding next to his friend. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was just thinking,” Iolaus replied.
“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything,” Hercules teased, but he quickly saw that his friend was not in a joking mood. “Sorry. What were you thinking about?”
“About that kid today,” Iolaus confessed. “I couldn’t do anything to help him.”
“Iolaus,” the demigod began. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. You did everything you could. We got him out, and he’s going to be all right.”
“Only thanks to you,” Iolaus said stubbornly. “You’re the one that saved him. I was completely helpless. And I know what you’re going to say, that if it wasn’t for me he would have drowned for sure. But you can hardly say that I saved him just because I ran and got you. And if it had taken me one minute longer to find you, then he wouldn’t have made it. Just like...”
“Just like who?” Hercules prodded as his friend suddenly went silent.
“Just like my brother,” he eventually answered in a whisper.
“What are you talking about?” the demigod asked in surprise. “What brother?”
“My older brother,” Iolaus explained sadly. “He was named after my father. Skouros was big and brave and strong, everything that my father wanted in a son. Everything he always said I wasn’t. I was hardly more than a baby, but even then it was obvious that I was... smaller, and I wasn‘t worth the bother for good old dad. He was so proud of Skouros, and always talked about the great warrior that he would become.”
“What happened to him?” Hercules asked gently, astounded by the secret that his friend was confiding.
“He drowned,” Iolaus answered with a small shrug. “He went to go swimming with his friends, but the river was swollen from the spring rains. The current was too strong, and it pulled him under. I wasn’t with him when it happened, but I was there when they pulled him out. He’d been in there for a few days, and I’ll never forget the way he looked when they got him out. He was bloated, and blue. It was the most horrible thing I’d ever seen. Too much for a five year old to take. I started crying, and my father snapped. He smacked me once across the head and began yelling at me, telling me to act like a man and just generally screaming about how worthless I was. You know, he never actually said it out loud, but I knew it when I looked at him that day. He would have given anything for it to have been me they were pulling out of the river, instead of Skouros.”
Iolaus’ voice faltered as he became choked with emotion. The pain that he had hidden away so long ago was coming to the surface, and he was unable to stop it. He tried desperately to hold back the tears that were flooding his eyes, but Hercules’ understanding hand on his shoulder only made it harder. Burying his face in his hand, Iolaus finally allowed himself to vent the hurt that he had suppressed over the years. The demigod slid a little closer to his friend and put a comforting arm around him, offering him friendship and silent support as Iolaus worked through his feelings. Eventually he sat up, wiping his eyes embarrassedly.
“My father always said I was a crybaby,” he half joked. “Guess he was right about that one.”
“Iolaus, you are nothing of the sort,” Hercules chastised. “You have a sensitive heart and you feel things deeply. That doesn’t make you a crybaby. Those are admirable qualities.”
“Anyway,” Iolaus sniffed, leaning back against the wall behind him. “After Skouros died, I could do no right, as far as my father concerned. He forbid us to speak of Skouros. We weren’t allowed to mention his name. But his ghost lived on, as my father couldn’t look at me without comparing me in his mind to my brother. He never saw me for what I was, but only for what I wasn’t. I wasn’t Skouros, so automatically I became useless. Before, he‘d always just kind of ignored me. But after the accident, I think he started to hate me.”
“I’m sure he didn’t hate you,” the demigod told him, feeling his heart ache at all his friend had been through.
“Maybe he didn’t hate me directly, but he hated it that I still lived while his favorite son didn’t. Skouros was the strong one, and in my father’s eyes, I was just a small, weak, crybaby, worthless runt that he was ashamed of.”
“Your father was a fool,” Hercules said softly, but with conviction. “Iolaus, you are a brave fighter, a loyal friend, and you have a good heart. I don’t know how any father couldn’t be proud of having a son like you. If he was too blinded to see you for all that you were, then that’s his fault. Believe me, its his loss.”
“He did try to teach me to swim once,” Iolaus recounted. “It was about a year after Skouros had died. About the last time we ever tried to act like a family. We went on a picnic down by the river, and my father insisted that I learn how to swim so that what happened to Skouros would never happen to me. I’d never gotten the impression before that he cared. But I’d been terrified of the water ever since I saw them pull my brother out,. My father wouldn’t listen to me. He grabbed hold of me and yanked me in with him, and I completely lost it. I went hysterical, kicking and screaming. Somehow I broke free of him and got back to shore. I ran to my mother, and my father was yelling at me, and her, going into his usual routine about what a useless coward I was. The thing was, I really wanted to learn. I wanted to be able to show him that I could do something and that I wasn’t worthless. More than anything in the world I wanted to be able to make him proud of me. But I was just too terrified of the water, and I just didn’t trust him to keep me safe. Can you imagine that? A boy afraid to trust his own father.”
“Think about who you’re talking to, here.”
“Right. Sorry.” Iolaus took a deep breath. “But then today, it almost happened again. That poor kid was drowning, and I was terrified. There was nothing I could do.”
“Iolaus,” Hercules reassured him. “You aren’t a god. You don’t have any magical powers. You saw someone in trouble, and you helped him the only way that you could. There was nothing else you could have possibly done. Please, just try to understand. You may not have pulled him out of the water, but that kid is alive today because of you. Don’t write that off as insignificant.”
“I don’t know, Herc. I mean, how can I be a warrior if I can’t swim? How can I do anything? What if next time, no one’s there to cover for me?”
“If its bothering you that much, then maybe its time you learned how,” the demigod suggested. “I know you could do it, Iolaus. Whenever you set your mind to something, nothing holds you back. And, I think you’d enjoy it once you got the hang of it.”
“Maybe it is time,” Iolaus said slowly. He turned to look at his friend, silhouetted in the darkness. “Will you teach me how?”
“Me?” Hercules was a bit surprised by the request.
“Yeah,” Iolaus confirmed. “I trust you, Herc.”
“You’ve got it, buddy,” Hercules agreed with a grin. He stuck his hand out, and they solemnly shook on it. “Come on, its getting late. Chiron let us off the hook for this afternoon, but if we’re late in the morning...”
“I know,” Iolaus sighed, rising to follow the demigod inside to the dorm. “Latrines.”
The End
Disclaimer: No stags were bagged during the writing of this story, although several oats did meet with an untimely end.
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